Missing
by poetif
Summary: A serial killer brings profound changes to the lives of Elliot and Olivia. The results are shattering for them both. What will it take to fix what's broken, to right what's wrong, to fill in what's missing? Original Characters of Law & Order:SVU are property of Dick Wolf & NBC/Universal but the story is my creation. Currently rated T but will change to MA in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Her head lulls to one side before her dark brown eyes flutter open.

It's dark.

Water is dripping from somewhere in the dank, musty basement.

They are tightly bound to two columns with braided rope. The same rope he no doubt used to bind his three other victims.

Victims. They were going to be his _victims_.

Cheryl Lipinski, Brenda French, Anise Hartley…Olivia Benson, Elliot Stabler.

She isn't going to have them counted among the others if she can help it. Yet, if she doesn't find a way to free them, that _will_ be their fate.

Her shoulders burn at the effort. Her wrists are rubbed raw and red from the tug and pull of her restraints. The muscles of her body began to ache from being stuck in the same position on the cold, unforgiving cement floor.

She has no way of telling how long they've been there. She'd guess about two hours. It was just before dusk when they started out and she can see through the basement window that it has been nightfall for a while. Hopefully they'll be found or manage an escape sooner rather than later.

They're both in desperate need of medical attention.

As many times as they were punched and kicked, she should still be as unconscious as her partner. But Elliot is the one who bore the brunt of the assault. Though she can barely see him across from her only a few feet away, she doesn't doubt that he is in just as bad or worse shape. He hasn't stirred or moaned in pain for awhile.

She is glad for the reprieve. It's been torturous to hear him hurting and not be able to do anything about it. At least he's still breathing.

Olivia's lips feel swollen. She can't touch it but she knows her left eye will also probably be puffy, colored purple with deep bruising by morning. The blood from her mouth and nose has long since dried into her outer shirt, though she did spit some of it into that prick's face. It earned her another hard slap across the cheek from _him._

James Allen Curtner.

Kidnapping, raping, murdering bastard, and yes in that order.

They pursued him for 72 straight hours until the leads turned cold. On a whim they decided to check out an old Victorian he inherited north of the city. It's the last address given to the dispatcher before they lost contact. They were out of range and there weren't too many cell towers in the area.

What Cragen, Munch, Fin and the rest of the NYPD don't know is that they followed Curtner into the expanse of woods _behind_ the old Victorian.

"El," she whispers, not knowing whether or not Curtner is nearby or has left altogether.

No response.

"Elliot," she says a bit louder but to no avail. He stirs but doesn't answer.

She now feels stupid and ridiculously unprepared for having followed a suspected serial killer onto his turf, into near darkness…_without_ backup. She feels the same idiocy for the outcome that is their current predicament which is beaten and tied up in the dank rancid basement of a house that according to Curtner…_isn't _on the map.

Elliot and Olivia followed him in guns drawn, where they quickly lost control of the situation. They'd separated to search the two story clap boarded, rickety, piece of crap. He swept the downstairs while she took the upper rooms.

Curtner knocked Elliot out cold after surprising him with a very solid frying pan. He then anxiously awaited the arrival of his partner as she would inevitably come looking for him.

After clearing the three bedrooms Olivia noticed Elliot hadn't joined her, nor had he responded to her calls once she returned downstairs.

When she saw him on the floor she turned to look for Curtner just in time to get hit by the same piece of cookware.

Captain Cragen currently has search dogs covering the wooded area trying to pick up Elliot and Olivia's scents. They've combed the house already and have come up empty.

"Their squad car is still here," he says to Fin. "They can't be too far," he adds, laying a worried hand on his forehead. "If they were surprised and taken elsewhere though Cap-

James Allen Curtner is a sociopath, an unaccounted for sociopath. It makes Olivia and Elliot's disappearance more of a concern.

"No," interrupts Cragen. "Curtner doesn't have the physical strength or the stupidity to try and move two cops by himself," he surmises, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I know they're here somewhere even if he isn't."

"There aren't any other buildings on the map." Fin points out. "Where else could they be?"

He turns a stern face towards the woods. "They're here," he says, confidently. "And we aren't leaving without them," he adds, getting a far-away look in his eyes.

Fin knows that means whether they're dead or alive.

It must be something about the fact that there are less buildings or people, but as she begins to shiver she can tell that it's definitely colder at night out in the middle of nowhere. With his polo shirt and jeans and her tank top, t-shirt and slacks they simply aren't dressed for it.

The frigid hard floor has really gotten to her so she gives the attempt at freedom one last shot. As she wriggles and pulls, Olivia feels the ropes give. She moves her legs beneath her and gets into a squatting position to give her butt a rest.

The moonlight illuminates the face of her partner across from her. Elliot is just as bad as she's feared. The skin beneath his eyes is discolored and partially swollen, his lips are bloody and cut. Even with his head lulled to one side she can see that his nose is broken. As many times as Curtners' foot met Elliot's body, she doesn't doubt his ribs are either severely bruised or broken altogether.

Seeing him in that condition gives her renewed strength as she begins to struggle with the rope again. After one final tug she manages to free herself.

"Thank God," she says, pulling herself to a standing position and stretching stiffened muscles. After she gathers herself she hurries over to her still unconscious partner. It's not a good sign that he hasn't woken up yet. Curtner could've given him a concussion along with his other injuries.

"Elliot," she calls out, untying his ropes. He stirs minimally as she moves to squat in front him, cradling his face in her hands trying to get him to hear her.

Olivia tries to be gentle as she pulls his arms from around the column to sit them in his lap. She rubs his muscles from his shoulders to his wrists trying to warm him and get the blood in them circulating again.

"Liv," he says faintly.

"Yeah El, it's me," she answers, carefully tilting his head to look at her. "We've gotta' find a way out of here."

"Curtner," he rasps, in a voice laden with concern.

"I don't know. I think he abandoned us in favor of a better head start," she responds, hoping that's the reason she hasn't heard any footsteps above them for a good while.

"Do you think you can stand?"

"I-I think so," he stutters out. Olivia takes both of his hands and helps to pull him up. He teeters a bit but physically tries to shake it off. The motion causes him instant nausea. Elliot manages to make it a couple of steps away from her before puking.

"Sorry," he says, coming back to her. "Felt dizzy and sick all the sudden," he continues, clutching his stomach and leaning on the column he was just freed from.

"It's okay," she responds, patting him on the shoulder before stepping away to begin feeling the walls around them. "Just help me find the door or at least a light switch."

"Okay," he answers, making his way to a wall so he can feel for an exit or light source other than the stars. They both bump into various things on the walls and other items in the room before Olivia finds the switch.

"Finally," she says, letting out an exasperated sigh before lighting the room. Elliot has gotten as far as the wall near an old hobby horse, only a few feet from where he'd started.

The room is largely filled with long discarded items. Old toys and kids' furniture line one wall. A work bench with a wall of tools behind it is on the adjacent wall. A large deep freezer is at the end of the basement. And though she doesn't want to, Olivia knows she has to look inside.

The hinges creak loudly as she hesitantly lifts the lid. She lets out a sigh of relief as the contents only consist of frozen dinners and various cuts of meat labeled from a market. Apparently Curtner planned to hole up in the out of the way place until they got tired of looking for him. She digs all the way to the bottom to make sure. The guy stocked everything from frozen vegetables to ice cream.

After clearing the freezer Olivia notices Elliot has yet to move from his spot. She approaches him taking notice of how much worse he looks in the lit room.

"You okay El?" she asks, putting a hand on his forearm. He jumps which is something he definitely doesn't do.

"Liv you found the light switch right?"

"Yeah I did. What's wrong," she questions him again, growing worried at the fact that he's frozen in place.

"I-I can't see," he reveals. "I'm blind Liv," he says, finding the hand she has on his arm and covering it with his.

Looking for the two detectives is proving more difficult because of the density of the woods. The flashlights are barely effective in lighting the search. Couple that with the large coverage area and hours of searching has yielded nothing. And to top it all off, it has begun to rain.

The local sheriff approaches the worried Captain with a suggestion he knows will be poorly received.

"Captain Cragen it's been nearly five hours and now it's pouring out here. The dogs are tired and so are the officers," he says, eying the older man compassion-lately. "I know you'd like to find them but we'll have a better chance at first light."

"They could be hurt or worse Sheriff Franklin. I'm not leaving my detectives," he responds, clenching his jaw.

Munch sees the expression on his old friend's face and joins the conversation.

"You know how resilient those two are Cap," he offers, trying to calm the man gaining his attention. "They'll be okay for another few hours until we can get the choppers with thermal up here."

"If you want to quit then quit," he says, eying the sheriff again. "We keep searching."

"In this darkness we risk someone else getting hurt," asserts Sheriff Franklin. "I'm not saying we stop looking. I'm saying we give the people trying to find them a rest and a better chance of being successful."

Cragen wipes the moisture that's now cascading down his bald head and over his face. Knowing that the sheriff has a good point, he slowly nods his acquiescence.

"Okay, but at the first sight of the sun peaking up over that damned horizon," he exhales. "We reconvene this search," he adds adamantly.

"My God Elliot," she says, putting a hand over her bruised lips. "You can't see

_anything_?"

"Barely," he says, tightening his grip on her hand. "Just shapes and shadows."

"I'm gonna leave you here for a second," she tells him, extracting her hand from his. "I need to check the door to see if we can get out of this hole."

"I'm not going anywhere," he says dejectedly.

Olivia makes her way to the door and tries the lock. The knob turns loosely in her hand as she pushes on the door but it doesn't budge. After trying for a few minutes she concludes that it's not going to.

"I think something's wedged underneath the knob," she advises him. "I'm gonna have to climb out of the window to go around."

"What if he's still here somewhere?" he asks, concerned. "You don't have a weapon."

She looks around the basement before her eyes land on the wall of tools behind the workbench. There above the wooden table is a very nice, well sharpened…axe.

"Neither of us did that great _with_ our guns Elliot," she advises him. "But I still have to try."

"Okay," he says, seeing her point. "I'll just stay and guard this room," he tells her, making a mild attempt at humor.

Though it pains her a bit, she gives him a half smile that he can't see. "I'll be okay El," she says, stepping away from him. "I don't have my Sig but I do have a weapon."

After she retrieves the axe from the wall she looks around for something sturdy to stand on. Olivia sees two solidly built looking wooden end tables from the assortment of cast off furniture. She moves one away from the pile and leads Elliot over to rest on it. She drags the other beneath the window.

It easily lifts open and she pokes her head out to take a look around, getting immediately wet in the process. She doesn't see Curtner nor does she hear anything but the rain, singing of crickets, hooting of owls and what Olivia imagines to be other sounds of the country at night.

Once she's confident that their suspect isn't lurking around she grabs the axe and with great exertion lifts herself up and out of the small window.

She crawls on her belly on the newly moist dirt to the detriment of her sore and possibly broken ribs. With a bit of effort she stands up making sure to grip the axe in both hands and looks around before moving.

There's no sign of Curtner, only a generator that looks as if it's on its last legs. She hopes the rusty dilapidated machine has enough juice to last until morning.

Olivia makes pained but purposed steps towards the front of the house. As she approaches the porch she stops at the sound of a noise. She turns quickly thinking Curtner has come back.

What she wasn't expecting is the sight of a mangy, four legged creature, with two shiny night eyes, baring yellow ragged teeth at her in a low growl.

"Great" she says, thinking of how terrible her luck has been today. First outsmarted and assaulted by a psychopath, then wet and filthy from head to toe and now this.

Slowly she backs towards the porch keeping her eyes on the wolf. Olivia takes the axe in one hand and has the other hand palm up in a non-threatening way.

"Nice wolf. Easy. I'm not gonna hurt you," she says in a low voice, as calm as she can muster.

She continues backing up slowly until she feels the back of her ankle hit the first porch step. Prayers go through her mind that Curtner has left the front door open.

The nocturnal creature edges forward as Olivia edges back. When she sees it isn't buying the _"let's be friends" _act, she moves quickly up the rest of the steps and to the door. The wolf is so close behind her she could swear to feel it's breath on her pant legs.

Olivia throws open the storm door and wedges herself between it and the wolf. The night hound is clawing and biting at the door trying to get to her through the flimsy mesh.

She struggles with the front door for a bit before it finally gives way. To her relief Curtner has left it unlocked. There was simply no way she could've fended off the wolf and axe the front door at the same time.

Her heart beats at a hummingbird's pace as she leans against the front door safely inside the house.

She takes a look outside the window and discovers the reason for the wolf's attack on her. Two wolf pups come out of hiding and follow the adult back into the woods. Apparently, it was just protecting its young from a perceived threat.

"Too bad all humans don't have the same instincts," she mutters to herself.

After she takes a moment to get her heart rate back down to normal, with axe in hand she searches the house again. No James Curtner. He apparently _has_ left them for a better chance at freedom. With the way the thunder roars and the lightening lights up the sky, he also wouldn't be stupid enough to stay out in the summer storm.

She checks the bathrooms and closets, very relieved when she finds a First Aid kit. At least the lunatic is practical as well.

Once she locks all the windows and doors she heads for the kitchen where the trap door leading to the basement has been left open. In his haste to leave, Curtner was no longer worried about concealment.

Olivia leaves the medical supplies on the kitchen table and descends the stairs with her new weapon. She removes the chair wedged beneath the doorknob and opens it slowly in case Elliot has moved.

On the other side, he stands up abruptly, feeling scared and defenseless in being blinded for the second time in his life.

"It's just me El," Olivia announces, reading the way his body tenses up, seeing the apprehensive look on his face.

"Liv," he says, with a relieved sigh. "I thought something happened," he adds, reaching out for her.

She closes the distance between them and takes hold of his hand.

"Ran into a bit of a snag," she says, downplaying her near mauling by the wolf.

"A snag?" he asks, allowing her to guide him slowly up the steps. "What are you talking about?"

"The kind that has pointy teeth and walks on all fours," she informs him, trying to make light of the situation.

"What?" he asks, half yelling.

"Just a wolf protecting its young," she tells him, positioning him into a chair at the kitchen table.

"Did it hurt you?" he asks, with his eyebrows pierced in concern.

"No Elliot I'm fine," she answers, hearing him sigh in relief. "I'm just a little wet and dirty from the rain and mud."

"That's good because Curtner did enough damage," he says, looking away. "And I couldn't do a damn thing to stop him."

Olivia stops rummaging through the drawers long enough to eye Elliot. And though he can't see it on her face, she hopes he can hear the sincerity in her voice.

"It wasn't your fault Elliot," she says, pulling up a chair next to him. "What were you supposed to do all tied up?"

"I don't know," he says. "Nothing I guess." Even though he can barely make out her face he looks down and away from her. In his mind she has an expression of disappointment for failing to protect her like he's supposed to as her partner. From time to time he still hears the word "useless" in his head courtesy of Joseph Stabler.

Olivia can tell there is something more on his mind, something more troubling to him other than the fact that he can't see at the moment.

"What's up El?" she dares, knowing how difficult answers are to come by from him. Though she's sure he's capable of verbalizing his feelings, he doesn't often do it with her. And she rarely pushes because she's the same way.

"Liv…" he begins, wanting to ask but not knowing if he can handle an affirmative answer. "I don't know…how long I was out for-

"What is it Elliot?"

"Did he-did Curtner-did he rape you?" he stumbles, glad it's finally out.

Elliot prays with everything he believes in that she says no. He's seen horrendous things done to people on the job and he never wants to think they'll happen to anyone he cares about.

Even if Curtner did take the time, she doesn't know that she would tell Elliot. It'd kill him to know something like that happened to her in his presence while he was powerless to stop it.

"He punched and kicked me same as you," she tells him. "But he didn't rape me El," she adds, squeezing his hand. "All of his victims weren't too long out of high school. I'm not exactly his type."

He squeezes back immediately. "Good," he says. "I mean not that you're not his type but-

"Relax. I know what you mean," she says, assuaging his guilt. "Now let's get you fixed up," she tells him, pulling from his grasp and reaching for the First

Aid kit.

She cleans all the cuts and scrapes on his face and with a bit of groaning on his part, sets his nose back into place.

Once that's done she finds the kitchen towel she was looking for and loads it with ice before putting it into a small plastic bag. She feels the goose egg he has on the back of his head and tells him to alternate it between there and his face.

"When did you turn into Florence Nightingale?" he asks, taking the ice.

"With you for a partner I get a lot of practice," she quips. "I believe you've had more trips to the ER than anyone else I know."

Olivia uses the nearby dining room mirror to clean herself up while still able to keep an eye on her partner. It's good he can't see her because she scares herself. Her hair is matted to her head, her left eye is swelling with multiple colors and she has a cut lip. After tending to her own injuries she grabs some ice, a towel and a plastic bag to hold to her left eye, hoping the swelling won't be visible by morning.

Sitting across from Elliot, they try to come up with a plan.

"I guess you didn't run into any phones looking for that First Aid kit?" Elliot asks, knowing the answer.

"No such luck," she responds. "And I'm pretty sure he took ours and threw them down the nearest well along with our weapons."

"Cragen has to be looking for us now," he points out. "We haven't checked in for hours."

"Yeah but it's dark, raining and we're in a dense wooded area that isn't exactly easy to find," she tells him. "They've probably called off any search until daylight."

"And I'm guessing trying to make it back to the car through the woods is out of the question?"

"Well let's see," she begins, "We need medical attention, the weather's bad and it's pitch black out there. We have no flashlights, no clue how to get back the way we came, there's at least one wolf and…you can't see."

"Okay, I get the point," he says, frustratingly scrubbing a hand over his face.

"Good," she responds clasping her hands together, "because we're stranded here until morning."


	2. Chapter 2

After not eating anything more than vending machine food during the pursuit of their suspect, they're ecstatic that the refrigerator is as fully stocked as the freezer in the basement.

Olivia keeps it quick and simple preparing lunch meat sandwiches, potato chips and grabbing two bottles of water.

She cleans up and puts everything back as it was. In case Curtner returns, she doesn't want to leave any evidence that they've escaped. She even returns the chair to its position beneath the basement doorknob.

Elliot feels like an invalid with her having to do everything without his help. He has to wait on her to simply move from where he sits at the table.

"We need to get a few hours rest."

She has given it a lot of thought actually. They could stay downstairs on the sofas but she feels too vulnerable there.

"There are two bedrooms upstairs," she advises him. "It shouldn't be a problem camping out here until morning."

Since all of the bodies were found in the city, she's pretty confident none of the girls were ever victimized at _that_ house. She hopes her logic is sound. The idea of laying on a bed someone had been so brutally violated on well, sickens her.

"I can't believe we're in this mess," he tells her, interrupting her thoughts.

"We were chasing him for 72 hours straight. We're tired and we got caught off guard El," she points out. "We're damned lucky he didn't kill us."

"You're right," he says, turning back towards her. "And I_ am_ exhausted," he admits. "Let's just go to bed."

She sees his face tense up immediately. It's good he's momentarily blind because he can't see the blush she's sure has colored her cheeks. Not that they don't have chemistry but it's been months since his divorce and they haven't crossed that line.

"I didn't mean-

"It's okay. I'm tired too and I should get out of these damp, dirty clothes," she says, letting him off the hook. "Come on," she yawns, reaching for his arm.

They grab their ice packs and journey to find a comfortable, slightly safer spot to rest. Olivia leads him out of the kitchen, through the dining room and up the stairs to the master bedroom.

"I think it's safer if we stay in the same room," Olivia advises him.

"Okay," he tells her. "Are there two beds?"

"Um, no," she answers. "We'll have to share. But don't worry, you're virtue is safe with me."

"That's a shame," he says smiling and surprising her.

The room is the only one with a bathroom and it has the largest bed as well. She locks the door behind them once inside.

The bed is a king four poster, crafted in solid oak and hopefully the sheets are clean. The floors are a matching hardwood with rugs in front of and on both sides of the bed. There is a chest of drawers, nightstands on both sides of the bed, a standalone mirror and a very large sliding glass door that opens out onto a balcony.

Olivia finds a soft but heavy blanket in the cedar chest at the foot of the bed. She takes a look in the chest of drawers not wanting to sleep in the serial killer's clothes but she doesn't have a choice. She grabs a large enough t-shirt for herself and some pajama bottoms for her partner.

She leads Elliot to the bathroom to get washed up. After telling him about the pajamas, turning on the water and placing a soap and towel in his hand, she leaves him to his own devices.

Olivia hadn't noticed the balcony during her earlier search, maybe because the moon wasn't shining so beautifully through it. When she steps out, a cool night breeze hits her face and there's an overhang to prevent her from getting wetter. Even with the night clouds the stars reflect brilliantly off the small man-made lake she also missed when they chased Curtner into the log sided home.

If it wasn't for the fact that it belongs to a serial killer, she wouldn't mind renting the place for a little rest and relaxation.

When she hears Elliot finishing up in the bathroom, she stops her musings to close and lock the balcony door behind her.

"It's all yours," he announces, walking in his stocking feet right into the foot of the bed. "Ow!" he yells, falling backwards and bracing himself on the wall.

She rushes to his side to steady him. It's then that she notices just how much damage Curtner has done to her partner. Olivia had seen the bump on his head, the swelling and abrasions on his face. But his body is covered in deep violet, red and blue dark marks. In some places you can actually see Curtner's shoe print.

Olivia lets go of his upper arms, tenderly touching the bruises on his chest, ribs and abdomen.

"God El," she gasps. "He really did a number on you."

In response he reaches up and gingerly touches Olivia's face. He feels her swelling eye and gingerly touches some of the other injuries she has.

"He did a number on both of us Liv," he says, moving his hands to cup her head, resting his thumbs against her neck. She instinctively drops her hands to his waist.

"I'll be fine," she says, repeating her life's mantra.

He grins at her predictability. "Right."

They stand that way just long enough for it to start become awkward. It's Elliot who pulls away first.

"I'm gonna let you get out of these wet clothes," he says releasing his hold on her. "You must be cold and uncomfortable."

Cold yes, she thinks but getting warmer. Uncomfortable with the way he touched her, surprisingly not at all. She takes his hand and guides him over to the bed. After she pulls the covers back he climbs in.

"I'm just gonna take a quick shower," she advises him. "I won't be too long and I know you're tired but I think you have a concussion so try not to nod off."

"Okay," he responds, trying to get comfortable. "I'll try and thanks for…taking care of me."

"I know how much you hate it so you're welcome," she tells him, disappearing into the bathroom.

Once inside Olivia strips out of her dirty, wet clothes and turns on the shower. She eyes herself in the mirror once more, taking in her appearance. She hopes she'll look better in the morning before Elliot regains his vision. She didn't used to value his opinion about her physical appearance but hey, he didn't used to look at her the way he just was and he's nearly blind.

She was very close to taking a step towards him, just to see what would've happened.

Olivia tries to remain focused on getting out of their current predicament instead of the way she felt when he touched her so tenderly. They've always been extremely careful to avoid that very thing during their entire partnership, or at least after realizing that they have feelings for one another. After that, the flirtatious comments and reenacting perp and vic scenarios that involved physical contact had ceased.

However since his divorce, they've worried less about staring too long or letting a hand linger. In the past, where they would've avoided touching unless one of them was in emotional or physical pain, these days they don't make such a conscious effort.

She's conflicted because she simultaneously enjoys _and _fears their new lack of boundaries. Like many things with them, it isn't discussed nor does one stop the other when lines are crossed. But when those boundaries do get blurry, all she has to do is remember the _two_ whole years he and Kathy were separated.

Maybe he didn't try anything because he's Catholic and married is married, separated or not. Then again, she remembers her shock in hearing he was returning home after such a long time. But apparently his "little friend" at Immigration wasn't so surprised. And Olivia was less so after Elliot confessed he'd knocked up his almost ex wife…_again. _

Steam has built in the small space during the time she's been ruminating, alerting her to the fact that the water is as hot as she enjoys it. As she steps in, Olivia is instantly relaxed letting the hot spray cascade over her injuries and sore muscles. She stands beneath the water in no hurry to rejoin her partner knowing they'll be sharing a bed. The idea of it unnerves her.

In the bedroom Elliot can't seem to get comfortable. Unnecessary though it is with his temporary blindness, he instinctively closes his eyes trying to get some sleep. The sun will be making its way over the horizon in several hours and his body definitely needs the rest.

The first time he was blinded by that schizophrenic children's book author from Louisiana, he was scared to death. He called out for his wife in the hospital room because he heard her voice first. But he knew Olivia was there too. She always is and he knows he takes that for granted.

He's trying to ignore the deeper feelings he's begun to have. Elliot understands it's not a rebound thing, an infatuation or because she's just convenient. He wonders about an actual relationship with her but ruining his friendship and partnership is out of the question. He just doesn't know why, given their current situation, he isn't thinking of more constructive things.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" he grumbles to himself, flipping from a prone position for the millionth time as painful as it is to do so.

Back inside the bathroom Olivia turns off the water. As soon as one of her feet hits the tiled floor the power shuts off.

"Damn it," she hisses. "That's just great," she says, picking up the towel drying off from head to toe. Afterwards she reaches for the pajamas she's left on the toilet lid.

Once she's dressed she opens the door to check on Elliot only to collide with him sending them both to the floor in a heap of entangled limbs yelling "Ow!" simultaneously.

"I'm sorry," he starts, rubbing his cheek. "I heard the generator stop and came to check on you," he adds, finding and pulling himself up on one of the posters of the bed.

"It's okay," she responds. "I was coming to do the same thing," she says, pushing off the floor. "Let's just try to get some rest and hopefully nothing else will happen."

They go to opposite sides of the large bed, climb in and cover themselves with the huge, thick blanket. Ten minutes go by and she begins to shiver pulling herself into a ball. The generator has also taken their source of heat along with it. Her response to the growing drop in temperature has not gone unnoticed by her partner. He can feel her shaking from his side of the bed.

"Liv?"

"Yeah," she responds, trying not to let him hear the chattering of her teeth.

"You cold?" he asks, already knowing the answer to the question as well as what her response will be.

"I'm f-fine."

"Well I'm cold," he tells her, hoping she'll for once be honest with him about what she's feeling.

"Maybe there's another b-blanket in the closet or one of the d-drawers," she suggests, attempting a simple solution.

"Yeah, but do you really want to get up and fumble around in the dark until you hit something else?"

They both know there's only one option for near immediate warmth other than tripping and falling in the barely lit room searching for another blanket or comforter.

"No," she sighs, almost dejectedly.

"It's only gonna' get colder Liv," he tells her. "I'll share my body heat with if you think you can control yourself," he continues, causing them both a small laugh.

"I'll try my damndest," she says in a tone dripping with sarcasm. "But I can't make any promises," she informs him, rolling over into his waiting arms.

She nuzzles into his chest wrapping her arms around his back, intertwining her legs with his. As she breathes in his scent and feels his skin against her face, Olivia can't help but notice how natural it all seems to be and how warm he is.

"You don't feel cold," she comments.

"Are you saying I'm hot Liv?"

Even after all the years they've spent together she can't deny her attraction to him.

"You pick the strangest times to flirt Elliot."

"That's not a no."

"I was worried about your concussion but now I really just want you to pass the hell out already."

Despite their circumstances and injuries, they laugh together.

They've always been in sync as partners. So many times one knows what the other thinks or feels from just a look. They connect and feed off each other in interrogation, brainstorm during cases and protect one another every time IAB comes sniffing around.

But they don't just _work_ well together, they're good friends. They cover for one another and interfere in each other's personal lives for the sake of the partner-ship, or so they claim. As much as they fight, they also reconcile in their own way without ever _actually_ apologizing. Olivia and Elliot are like two halves of the same whole and no matter what happens the two always seem to find themselves back together.

Elliot feels the same attraction. With her in his arms he's finding it difficult to control himself. The smell of her hair, her warm breath on his chest and just being wrapped up with her. He's lying awake thinking of menial things so that she doesn't realize just _how much_ he's enjoying her warmth. Hopefully she can't feel how quickly his heartbeat has picked up its usual pace.

"G'night Liv."

"Night El."

Even though neither of them is in any shape for physical activity of _any_ kind, his body still reacts to her. But he won't cross that line. He doesn't know when he began to worry about breaking her heart but he vows not to.

He gets the feeling he's already done that at least once and that it's the reason she had to leave that first time. It was Olivia's attempt at self preservation so he doesn't blame her. Instead, he focuses on telling his body to ignore _hers_ and thank God it's listening.

The next morning finds him with disturbing dreams. Olivia hears his pained voice before he starts thrashing around.

"No," he murmurs at first.

"Elliot wake up," she tells him, rousting him gently with one hand on his shoulder.

"Stop! Don't touch her!" He yells, becoming more physical.

Olivia gets up on both knees in the bed beside him, shaking him now with her hands on both shoulders.

"El wake up!"

At her shouting his eyes finally pop open and he immediately turns the tables on her pinning her beneath him by the wrists.

The rage in his eyes is no less frightening than those the wolf possessed last night. It's feral and though she knows he'd never hurt her, he looks dangerous.

"It's just me El," she rasps, not wanting to make him feel threatened by a louder tone. "Just me."

She sees the realization of what he's doing and who he's doing it to, dawn on him. The look in his eyes is immediately apologetic and his breaths come more evenly as he releases the death grip he has on her wrists.

Olivia cautiously reaches up to lay a hand against his morning stubble, rubbing her thumb against it. It seems to calm him infinitely more as he takes one final deep breath with closed eyes, returning to himself.

The sun has crept over the horizon bathing them in warmth and light. Most of Elliot's vision has returned. He reaches down to push a rebellious hair behind her ear. Then he gingerly touches the bruises that cover her face stopping at the cut on her bottom lip. She momentarily closes her eyes at the contact.

"I'm sorry," he grinds out, letting his thumb linger at the corner of her mouth.

"It's okay, it was just a dream," she says automatically, looking up at him again.

"You know I'd never-

"I know," she interrupts. "Can you let me up so I can get ready?"

"Yeah sorry," he says, climbing off her.

"I'm gonna get into the bathroom first if that's okay?"

He simply nods and watches as she enters, closing the door gently behind her.

Elliot lays there for a few more minutes before noticing a noise that seems to be getting louder coming from outside. He gets off the bed, goes out to the balcony and watches an NYPD police helicopter circle the property before landing on the side near the lake.

Once he's dressed Elliot knocks on the door to alert Olivia that the cavalry has arrived. He steps out to the balcony again and waves at their captain letting him know they're okay.

Inside the chopper, Captain Cragen smiles to himself before getting on the radio telling the local sheriff to call off the search.

After they get into the helicopter their superior takes in their appearances and orders the pilot to the nearest hospital with a helipad. It's probably the one time since he's known them that they didn't bother arguing.

They both have various lacerations, abrasions and ugly bruises from the assault. But, where Olivia's ribs are simply bruised, Elliot has three that are cracked as well as a concussion. The doctors tell him how fortunate he is that his blindness wasn't permanent. And after much begging and pleading they are both released into Fin's custody with prescriptions for meds that probably neither will have filled.

Olivia can't go back to work for a week and then it's desk duty for her until her next check up. Elliot can't go back to work for at least three weeks until he's cleared by a doctor. Somehow they still manage to talk Fin into bringing them back to the station with him. They know Cragen will want to know how the two of them managed to let Curtner get away.

Elliot and Olivia turn many heads as they head to his office. Dressed in hospital scrubs and looking every bit like someone beat the crap out of them, they look like the walking wounded.

Olivia knocks before they both enter his office.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" he asks, standing from his desk and glaring at Fin through the glass. "Weren't you instructed to go home and stay there?"

"We wanted to explain what happened Captain," Olivia starts, "you shouldn't have to speculate."

"You were chasing him for three days without sleep," he says, motioning to the two chairs in front of his desk. "I'm just happy not to be writing your eulogies," he deadpans. "But what happened?"

"We didn't know about the lake house until we were there," Elliot begins. "There wasn't a signal to radio dispatch after we found it."

"And by then there wasn't any time," Olivia interjects. "If we would've waited-

"Apparently, the same thing would've happened," interrupts Captain Cragen. "He got away."

Elliot scrubs a heavy hand over his face and sinks back into his chair. "Yeah."

"Right." Olivia agrees. "And to add insult to our obvious injuries he got our shields and weapons too."

Cragen pushes back from his desk and fishes out their credentials and guns and hands them to his two dumbfounded detectives.

"How-

"When-

The elder detective holds up both hands, effectively stopping their inquiries. "They were in the trunk of your squad car," he explains. "Munch found them when he was driving it back after he pulled over to change a flat tire."

He also shows them an evidence bag with a note inside. "And as an additional 'F-U' he left this."

Without taking the note out of the bag Elliot read it then passed it off to his partner.

_Dear Detectives,_

_The chase has been fun, but now I have to truly run. Thanks for the memories._

_Sincerely,_

_JAC_

"Son of a bitch," she mumbles, after having finished the quick read.

"He more than likely fled to Canada," says Cragen leaning forward on his desk hands clasped. "And even if they catch him they won't extradite him back here knowing he's facing the death penalty for three murders."

"Road blocks?" Elliot asks.

"Yielded nothing." Cragen answers abruptly.

"Aerial search?" Olivia questions.

"Equally fruitless." He tells them. "If he's still on this side of the border then he's had help."

"Captain we need to-

Their superior holds a hand up again, immediately stopping her suggestion.

"You two are out of this," he says sternly, eyeing her then Elliot. "Until you're both medically cleared, I don't want to see either of you."

"We could at least-

"No Elliot you can't," he responds. "After your five's are typed up about what happened at that house, leave and don't come back until someone with an M.D. behind their name says it's okay. Am I clear?"

"Yes Captain." Olivia responds.

Elliot simply nods and gets up leading the way back out into the bullpen. They both sit down wearily to type up their paperwork. Two hours later and they're there relatively alone in the squad room. Everyone else is chasing down leads on Curtner before they dry up.

Olivia unlocks her bottom desk drawer, removes her purse and shuts down her computer.

"You all done?" he asks, turning his off as well.

"Yeah. You?" she asks, standing.

"Yeah. I'll walk you out."

"Okay," she responds, as they walk down the corridor to the elevator.

"So what are you gonna do with your week?" he asks, pressing the button.

"Shower, sleep, wake up, eat," she tells him. "I'm pretty much gonna repeat that until I can come back to work."

"Smart ass," he says, giving her shoulder a slight nudge. It's probably the only spot on their bodies neither of them has a bruise.

"I'm serious," she responds as they get on the elevator. "It hurts to breathe so I won't be doing too much and my face would scare small children so I won't be going anywhere."

"You don't look-," he begins but suddenly braces the back of the elevator.

Olivia eyes grow large as alarm immediately sets in.

"What's wrong El?" she asks, placing a hand on his shoulder as he doubles over.

He doesn't respond instead falling to his hands and knees before passing out in a heap on the elevator floor.

"Elliot!"


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: This story seems to be slow going but it is moving. It's definitely something I struggled with so please review and let me know what you think.**

Olivia presses the button of the elevator for the doors to open again and sees a uniformed officer passing by.

"My partner just passed out, call for a bus!"

She hits the emergency button on the elevator panel in hopes that help will arrive quicker. Then she repositions him to lay flight on his back and checks for vital signs. Relieved with the fact that he still has a pulse, Olivia is minimally calmed. Her heart is beating at a rabbit's pace at the fact that his breathing is so shallow she can barely see his chest rise and fall.

Olivia sits on the floor and cradles his head in her lap as they wait for the ambulance to arrive.

"You're gonna' be fine El," she whispers as she pets his face. "Everything's gonna' be okay," she says trying to sooth her own worry.

Three hours later finds Olivia sitting in a chair at her partner's bedside. They were both chastised by the doctor for having checked out against medical advice in the first place. Her injuries were less severe but clearly Elliot should've stuck around.

They've run a battery of tests on him to make sure he has no intracranial bleeding or a cracked skull. But apparently concussions don't have to be severe in order for you to pass out.

Olivia takes the time to look him over in a way she's never really had the privilege of doing. His hands are strong but still bear the scars from years of taking his rage out on inanimate objects. Elliot's torso is shirtless and covered in leads from the various machines he's hooked up to. She can see the brutality of Curtner's rage painted over her partner's skin.

A nurse complimented her on the job she'd done resetting his broken nose but the rest of his face is a roadmap of cuts and bruises leading to swelling above his left eyebrow. She watches the rapid movement beneath his eyelids knowing he's probably having another nightmare but she can do nothing to comfort him.

As she looks on she notices how agitated he appears. His brow is coated in beads of sweat and he mumbles incoherently from time to time. He seems restless in his movements and disturbed by his dreams as his breaths become more erratic. Olivia wants to wake him or simply hold his hand but she remembers how aggressively he responded this morning. She lays her hand on the bed near him in case he chooses to reach for it.

"No!" He yells, startling her as his eyes pop open, suddenly sitting up.

He looks around the room for a moment seemingly confused by his surroundings. A nurse, having heard his scream comes rushing into the room.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, directing his question at Olivia.

At the mention of her name Elliot looks over at her, holding her eyes like he's relieved to see her but more so like he's relieved she's still alive.

"I think he had a nightmare," she offers, managing to break eye contact with her partner long enough to answer.

The nurse approaches Elliot to check his vitals.

"You nearly ripped the I.V. out," comments _Daniel_, as his nametag says. "That must've been some dream."

Elliot swallows harshly never taking his eyes off Olivia and simply nods as his rapid breathing continues. He doesn't have the words to describe the horrible images that are just beginning to fade from his mind's eye.

"You're blood pressure and pulse rate are a little high right now," Daniel informs him. "But they're both coming down on their own so I won't have to call the doctor to give you anything."

Again Elliot nods but remains silent. He knows the way he's staring at his partner is probably unnerving her but he can't help it. He hasn't been able to shake the constant feeling of dread he has where she's concerned.

"I'll check on you again later Detective. Press your button if you need anything before I come back," he advises.

The nurse is out of the room all of two seconds before Elliot's reaching for her hand. She gets up from the chair to sit next to him on the bed. The moment he touches her skin he seems to instantly calm.

'_She's real. She's here. She's okay.' _He repeats the words to himself in his head.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" she asks, ignoring the way he's holding her hand as if it's a lifeline.

His voice is low, raspy and the way he was eying her just minutes ago is a complete one eighty to the way he's avoiding her gaze now.

"Not really."

"Okay, well at least you get to leave in the morning."

"Why can't I leave tonight?" he asks, finally meeting her eyes again.

"They want to observe you overnight to make sure you don't have any more fainting spells."

"I fainted?"

"Yeah El, why do you think we're here?"

"The last thing I remember is Cragen telling us to turn in our fives. Everything after that is a blank."

"You passed out after we got onto the elevator to leave. A rookie called for a bus and we've been here ever since."

"What time is it?" he asks, noticing for the first time that it's nearly dark out.

"Almost 6:30pm."

"Did they catch him yet?" Not needing to mention who the "_him"_ is he's asking about.

"No. They're still searching."

"Then I need to get out of here."

Olivia pulls away from him then, standing up.

"What do you think you can do that everyone else isn't? Look at us Elliot. We're in no shape to go chasing after anyone let alone the guy who beat the crap out of us," she concludes in a raised voice.

"That's not," he begins in kind before thinking better of it. "That's not the reason I want to get out of here."

"Then what?" she asks. "Kathy and the kids are fine. We have no reason to think he'll go after them," she says, hands on both hips.

"I know," he tells her, focusing on his hands instead of her.

He doesn't want to voice his fears and with them his newfound paranoia. As irrational as Elliot knows he's being, the danger is real to him.

"And if he wanted us dead, we'd be dead Elliot," she reasons sitting in the chair again. "He had every opportunity to kill us."

"I know," he repeats, studying the scars of his knuckles.

Olivia knows she can't make him talk to her. If and when he wants to unburden himself it'll have to be when he's ready. And she's too damned tired to sit around and wait for him to become chatty.

"I'm gonna go ahead and go then," she says standing again.

"No," he says suddenly reaching for her again.

"Elliot if you can't tell me why you need to get out of here then I'm going home. I'm dead on my feet."

It's the wrong choice of words. He yanks on her hand pulling her onto the bed with him and into a bear hug. It's awkward and painful because of her injuries, the way he desperately holds onto her. She finds herself rubbing his back trying to console him from a pain or worry she doesn't know the root of.

"What is it El?" she whispers, continuing to hold him. "Please talk to me."

"I don't want anything to happen to you while I'm in here," he rasps in her neck. "I know it sounds crazy but I have a bad feeling."

Despite his grip Olivia manages to pull back far enough to look at him. What she sees in his eyes breaks her heart. He's genuinely terrified for her.

"What do you think will happen if you let me out of your sight?" she asks in a voice usually reserved for victims.

"I don't know," he answers honestly. "These dreams…just please get me out of here."

She moves her arms from around him to place her palms against his neck. The sincerity in his eyes isn't something she can just ignore or chalk up to the remnants of his nightmare. Olivia's never seen him like this before.

"Okay," she quietly concedes. "I'll tell them that I've volunteered to monitor you overnight."

He responds with a huge smile pulling her into another tight hug. The only time Elliot's felt more relieved is when his ex-wife, son and partner all survived that horrific car accident.

"Thanks Liv."

"You're welcome now watch the ribs," she tells him, giving him a small smile.

"Oh. Right," he responds, grinning sheepishly. "Just promise you won't leave without me," he adds more seriously as she heads for the door.

"I promise."

An hour later they're walking into her apartment. Though they've only survived on vending machine food for the last three days, both are too tired to think about anything other than sleep.

Olivia retrieves an extra blanket and pillow from her linen closet for Elliot. By the time she returns to the living room, he's taken his shoes and the scrub top off and he's horizontal on her sofa. She hands him the pillow before covering him with the blanket.

"G'night El."

"G'night Liv."

Olivia enters her bedroom closing the door behind herself before shedding her shoes, clothes and bra. She grabs a long sleep shirt from one of her dresser drawers before climbing into bed. When her head hits the pillow, she's out.

Several hours later, her sleep is disturbed by screams coming from her living room. When she turns her head to check the time on her alarm clock, she finds that it's 1:07am. Fortunately for her, they don't have to be at work today.

She pushes the covers off, grabs her robe and goes to check on her partner. This time he's managed to wake himself as well. He's hunched over with his head in his hands and he's breathing so fast and hard she can see the movement.

Olivia approaches him cautiously.

"El?"

When he looks up at her, he has tears on his face.

"Elliot," she repeats sitting down next to him with a hand on his back. "Nightmares again?"

"Not nightmares, _a_ nightmare. It's the same recurring dream," he says quietly, without bothering to turn in her direction.

"Maybe if you talked about it, you'd stopped having it."

"No!"

Olivia gets up immediately planning on going back to bed. Let him deal with it by his damned self if he wants to yell at her.

Elliot feels her get off the couch, reaches for and holds her hand before she's able to get too far. She sits back down next to him as he let's go. This time her hands are clasped together in front of her. She's short on sleep, her patience is nonexistent and done comforting him.

"You wanted me to check you out of the hospital and I did that," she begins. "You wake me up with this nightmare but you don't wanna discuss it. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. We both are in desperate need of sleep so you gotta help me out here El."

He takes a deep breath before finally returning her gaze in the nearly dark room. Though the whites are pink from his tears, she can still see the blue of his eyes shining clearly at her.

"I'm sorry. I know how tired you are."

"It's okay, just-just tell me how I can help us _both_ get some sleep."

"I don't know if-

"I'm too tired to play guessing games so just spit it out."

"I need to be near you-to make sure nothing happens."

"What do you mean near me?"

"I need to sleep next to you."

To simply say that Olivia is surprised is an understatement. The pretense of being out in the middle of nowhere and having to share body heat or die of hypothermia is gone. And what he's asking of her colors boldly outside the lines of partnership.

"Excuse me?"

"If you're lying next to me I won't worry and if I'm not worried I shouldn't have the nightmare," he reasons.

"You're serious."

"This isn't some twisted ploy to get you into bed Liv," he asserts. "You wanted to know how we could both sleep and I told you."

"And _that's_ what you came up with?"

Of all the many scenarios her mind has supplied over the years surrounding the circumstances of when or if they'd ever get into bed together, this did not make the list.

But then again, neither did last night's.

"If it makes you uncomfortable I understand," he says, turning away from her to fluff his pillow before lying on his back. Then he brings his legs up and around her, resting them behind her on the sofa, preparing to try to get back to sleep.

"It's doesn't. It's just that, the first nightmare you had, you were right next to me," she reminds him. "So I don't get how this is going to help."

"Yeah but I got through the night," he remembers. "It didn't manifest itself until the next morning."

She turns from him then, rubbing a hand against her forehead in thought. She knows if she wants to go to sleep and stay that way long enough for it to be restful, her partner may just have to be laying next to her.

He's watching her wheels spin. Elliot knows how her mind works. She'll try to think of every possible solution but the one he's proposing. Once her mental checklist is done, she'll let him know. He knows it unprofessional and that he's asking more of her than he should. But it's better than returning to the vicious images that await him once he closes his eyes.

"I'll do this under three conditions."

"Name them," he tells her, sitting up again.

"One. If you don't make it through the night without screaming in terror, you come back out here and you're on your own. Two. If this works, you have to tell me what the dream is about in the morning."

"And the third?"

"I don't care if it's a medical doctor or a shrink. You have to promise to tell someone what's been going on with you since last night."

"Okay."

"I mean everything Elliot, the blindness, the memory loss, the dizziness, the irritability and this idea that something's gonna happen to me. You're not yourself right now."

"I promise," he says quietly.

"Put the pillow and blanket back in the linen closet and then you can join me," she instructs before returning to her bedroom.

Olivia puts her robe on the back of her door and climbs into bed like it's any other night, like her partner isn't about to get in with her. She's simply too exhausted to worry about all the implications. Doing so would drive her nuts and she'd keep herself up. It's the last thing she needs.

After he's done what she's asked, Elliot enters her bedroom hesitating momentarily at her bed before climbing in next to her. Unlike the California King they slept in last night at the lake house, Olivia's bed is a queen and therefore _smaller_.

He feels like if he so much as breathes the wrong way he'll touch her and he doesn't want to make her any more uncomfortable than she already is. So he lies on his back and closes his eyes trying to fall asleep.

Even though she's lying on her stomach with her head turned away from him, she can feel the tension radiating from his side of the bed. She wishes she could just ignore him, she wants to, but she can't.

Olivia scoots right up to him and boldly picks up his arm, draping hers over his stomach before laying her head on his chest. She figures when he said he needed to be near her that this is what he meant. He was just being too _Elliot_ to come right out and say it.

He didn't even realize he was holding his breath until she made herself comfortable against him. He places a kiss on the top of her head, tightens the hold on her waist and finally succumbs to sleep and she isn't long to follow.

The bedroom window is cracked just enough to let an uncharacteristically cool night breeze in through the window. Throughout the night he doesn't toss, turn or have a single bad dream. He doesn't wake up screaming in a cold sweat. He doesn't mumble incoherently.

They simply sleep, and sleep.

By the time daylight pulls her into consciousness, she turns her head towards the digital clock on her nightstand to find that it's almost noon. They've been out for nearly ten hours. It's probably the most restful sleep she's had since she was a child and it's definitely the longest she's slumbered in a great while.

She suspects it's the same for her partner, who by the way is still sleeping. Olivia has an idea that having had five children in the house was even less conducive to a good night's sleep than the sole fact that they work in the SVU.

She quickly and quietly pulls out of his grasp, creeps over to her dresser and pulls out some clothes to run an errand in. Olivia uses the bathroom, changes and writes Elliot a quick note letting him know where she's gone. Then she grabs her keys, a bit of cash and heads out.

When he awakens, Elliot notices two things: One, he's still in Olivia's bed and two, she's not in it with him. He gets up to go to the bathroom and finding the door closed, he knocks.

"Liv, you in there?"

When he receives no answer he pushes the door open. After relieving himself and washing his hands he enters the living room. He doesn't see her there or in the kitchen so he begins to worry, deciding to call her cell.

On a bookshelf about three feet from where he's standing, he hears it ringing. Elliot tries to will himself to calm down as his heart begins to beat a million times a minute. He _knows _logically that his fear of something happening to her is completely irrational.

Her door hasn't been kicked in. There are no signs of a struggle and her keys are gone. Olivia more than likely left under her own steam. He _knows_ that she can take care of herself.

But it doesn't help what he _feels_. He's in full panic mode.

Elliot rushes to put back on the scrub shirt. He ties his shoes with trembling fingers before nearly tripping on his way to the front door. When he pulls it open he literally runs right into his partner.

"Whoa, where's the fire?"

He's too upset to speak so he just walks back into her apartment. Elliot walks over to her breakfast bar laying the palms of his hands on the gray laminate top. He closes his eyes telling himself that she's there and she's okay. But he's suddenly so angry.

"Elliot?"

He turns abruptly and taking two or three steps, stands in her face.

"Where the hell were you?"

Olivia takes her purchase out of the bag, placing it on the kitchen counter.

"I was out of coffee. What's the problem?"

"What's the problem? The problem is that you know I've been worried about you and you…you just leave!"

"First of all you need to lower your voice. Secondly, it's not my fault you're suddenly so paranoid."

"I'm not being paranoid! Anything could've happened to you! Curtner could've found you!"

She's done trying to calm him down.

"Curtner's not after me! He's probably out of the country by now and I can take care of myself Elliot!"

Olivia turns to walk away from him, going to her bedroom to end the argument but he's right on her heels. He lays his hand on the door before she can slam it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I know you can take care of yourself but he's dangerous, unpredictable and we don't know where he is!"

Olivia takes off her sneakers and enters the bathroom ignoring him.

"Do _not_ try to follow me in here," she tells him before slamming the door in his face.

Olivia sheds her clothes, throwing them into her hamper. She turns on the water, letting the steam momentarily build in the small space. Knowing the concussion is having a more serious effect on him than they'd both originally thought, she's trying to be patient.

But he's really starting to get on her nerves.

As she steps into the shower she tries to let the hot water relax her tired, bruised body and the stress with her partner. Olivia takes her time shampooing and conditioning her hair, kneading her sore muscles and just letting all the drama of recent events flow down the drain.

Nearly an hour later she steps out the shower, towels off and begins blow-drying her hair. By the time she leaves the bathroom she expects Elliot to have gone home. She wraps her robe around her, looking forward to a good breakfast.

When she opens the door she's startled to find her partner still there and sitting on her bed. At seeing her he rushes over, pulling her into another hug.

"Liv I'm so sorry," he rasps. "I just found the note you left."

_Now_ he finds the note? And he calls himself a detective.

"It's okay Elliot," she tells him rubbing his back. When she tries to pull away he holds her tighter.

"I just don't know what I'd do if something were to happen to you," he says into her neck, his warm breath against her skin.

"Nothing's going to happen," she contends. "I'm ok."

"I shouldn't have yelled," he continues and she can feel his lips moving against her neck. He's splayed his warm hands over her back and she can feel them through the thin cotton of her robe.

"We've both been under a lot of stress lately," she offers as he begins rubbing her hands up and down her back.

The action is less than platonic.

"That's no excuse," he says and she swears that his lips have just brushed against her neck in a short kiss.

Olivia's convinced she must be mistaken until he does it again this time letting his mouth linger open and hot against her skin. It feels amazing but she can't give into it. _She's_ supposed to be the rational one.

"What are you doing?" she asks, pulling back from him.

Elliot cradles her face in both hands before erasing the short distance she's created.

"I'm apologizing," he whispers against her lips before joining them with his. He glides them over hers before parting them with his tongue. He must've made coffee while he was waiting for her because he tastes like the crème brulee French roast she bought.

Contrary to rumor it' the first time they've kissed.

She used to scoff at the idea, believing it would be like locking lips with her brother because they've been friends for so long. It is _so_ not like that. Olivia's hands sit idly at his waist, resisting the urge to slide them beneath his shirt.

He rubs his thumb against her jaw while he kisses her. The two sensations are causing some type of malfunction in her brain because she doesn't stop him.

Maybe she got hit in the head too hard as well because this is _Elliot_ standing in her bedroom sliding his tongue against hers. It's her _partner_ she can feel through his jeans and the thin material of her robe. It's her _friend_ that she wants to move this two feet to her left and onto her bed with.

As he tenderly kisses the bruises created by Curtner along her jaw line and back down her neck, she _knows_ she should pull away. But his lips are on her skin and all she can think is _finally_.

When he pushes one side of her robe away from her shoulder to place his warm mouth there, she stifles a moan. Despite her mind's resistance, her body rebels as her hands slide under his shirt smoothing over the skin of his abdomen, palpating the solid muscle beneath.

He pulls his shirt over his head, tosses it behind him and captures her lips in another toe curling kiss. Her hands roam his chest before ending up around his neck, enjoying the way he tastes.

Elliot surprises her by smoothing his hands over her ass and picking her up, pulling her legs around his waist. He carries her over to the bed, laying her down as he continues kissing her slowly. Her robe has fallen open enough for him to move his lips over her collar bone and in between her breasts. A low moan manages to escape. Shit.

'_Stop him, stop him, stop him.' _She chants in her head.

Elliot smoothes his hand from her calf muscle to her thigh and is going further and that's when she _does_ stop him. She stills his hands with one of hers before laying the other against his face to get his attention.

"Elliot," she says, pulling her robe tighter. "You're not yourself right now, we need to talk."

Seeing the sincerity in her eyes makes him come to his senses. He takes a breath, nods his agreement and crawls off of her.

"I'll step out so you can get dressed."

He stops to pick up his shirt before leaving her bedroom.

Outside her door he scrubs a hand over his face. He can't believe he was all over her like that. Normally he's able to shut down his desire for her or at least hide it better but his filter is completely on the fritz. Damned concussion.

He rushes over to her kitchen sink to splash some cold water on his face hoping it'll calm his mind and the rest of his body. After a few deep breaths it seems to help but knowing she's just in the other room and likely half or completely naked, does not.

Elliot didn't feel the outline of a bra when he was touching her. And therefore he assumes she wasn't wearing panties either. She _had_ just gotten out of the shower. What he needs is a distraction. And when he opens her refrigerator to get some cream for his coffee, he finds it.

Olivia lies on her bed for a few minutes taking deep breaths. She has to settle down as well because God only knows how she had the strength to stop him. She puts on her bra and panties and throws on some jeans and a t-shirt. She can't help but think that if Elliot was in his right mind, they'd be rolling around naked together in her bed right now.

She shakes her head at the thought. Those images are certainly not the ones she needs in her mind while they're talking.

When she comes out of her bedroom she's surprised to find that he's cooked breakfast. He's adding scrambled eggs to two plates that already have toast and bacon on them. She slides onto one of the stools she has in front of her counter, giving him a small smile.

"You didn't have to do all this but thank you."

"It was the least I could do after you put up with my craziness," he says, joining her at the counter.

The fact that they were about to have sex five minutes ago isn't lost on either of them but now isn't the time to discuss it.

"That's what partners are for."

As they eat she tries to keep the conversation in comfortable territory. She wants him talking about Eli's latest antics or the Jets' new offensive line so that he's relaxed when they get around to the talk that really needs to be had. When they're done eating she clears the plates and adds everything to the dishwasher.

Elliot follows her into the living room, each of them carrying their coffee mugs to continue their conversation.

"So you didn't have any nightmares," she begins, sitting her cup on the coffee table.

Olivia takes a corner of the small sofa folding one of her legs beneath her while planting the other foot on the floor. Elliot sits his mug next to hers as he leans back against the sofa, sitting wide legged with his hands clasped in his lap.

"Is that your not so subtle way of letting me know it's time to keep up my side of the deal?"

"Yeah, so ante up."

He takes a cleansing breath looking visibly disturbed at the thought of revealing what's been keeping him up and making him so paranoid where she's concerned. But he promised. And after shoving his tongue down her throat and nearly stripping her naked a short time ago, he figures he owes her.

"Okay," he says, leaning forward and placing his elbows on both knees. "In the beginning of this dream, we catch Curtner. You're questioning him in an interrogation room while I look on from the two-way glass."

"Doesn't sound too bad so far."

Elliot just gives her a look that says, "_Just wait_."

"His hands are cuffed to the table but somehow he gets free and attacks you. Before I can do anything he's shoved a chair beneath the door."

Olivia listens intently but she thinks she knows where he's going and she doesn't like it already.

"He throws you on the table and starts really pummeling you," he continues as breaths begin to quicken. "I'm trying to get the door open and when that doesn't work I start banging my fists against the window until they're bloody."

Olivia all but gasps at the imagery he's painting.

"Then he rips your shirt open," he says getting more agitated. "I know what's gonna happen, I know what he's gonna do so I take out my gun and start shooting at the glass."

Olivia doesn't try to comfort him. She knows he needs to get it all out. Elliot needs to tell her the entire dream.

"He stops and laughs at me before he starts running his hands all over you," he adds. "Your face is a mess. It's bruised and bloodied and you can't fight him anymore," he rasps, cradling his face in both hands.

"When the bullets don't work I go back to using my fists," he continues through his fingers. "At first I scream at him to stop as he yanks your pants down your legs. But when I see you realize what he's about to do I start begging him," he says in a broken voice. "And he just keeps laughing."

When Elliot pulls his hands away his face is wet with tears.

"You were pleading with me to help you, to just please save you and I couldn't do shit Liv," he says crying. "Not a fucking thing. And I listened to you scream in pain as he, as he-

Olivia's heard enough. She doesn't need to listen to the rest and she can see how much damage has been done in telling her. It's probably one of the most disturbing dreams she's ever heard. And she's had some doozies herself. She doesn't waste time reaching for him.

She cradles his head to her chest and just holds him. Elliot isn't a man that openly weeps in front of anyone, especially her. But since his sustained concussion at the hands of Curtner, he doesn't seem to be able to hold anything in. Olivia's convinced now more than ever that he needs to see someone. Soon.

"El," she begins, pulling back so she can see his face.

"I'm sorry. I just blubbered all over your clean shirt."

"It's okay I have plenty more where this came from," she says, giving him a small smile.

She watches as he wipes away the remaining tears with the back of his hand.

"I think we should get you home so you can shower and change too."

"You saying I stink, Benson?" he asks with a smirk.

She's happy he's back from the very dark place replaying his dream took him to.

"No but you I don't think hospital scrubs are appropriate attire for a visit to the feds," she says him as she gets up from the sofa to retrieve her shoes.

"Guess if I'm gonna go talk to Huang, I shouldn't show up at the FBI building looking so disheveled."

Olivia turns to look at him and grins. She's glad he's chosen a psychiatrist to talk to and a great one at that. She just hopes the good doctor can get her partner back on track.

**Okay. Well? What did you think?**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: So sorry it's been so long to update folks. Just came back from another trip from that concrete jungle known as NYC. I had the awesome, privilege of meeting the wonderful, the gracious, the funny…the myth, the legend and one of the most down to earth people I've ever had the pleasure of being introduced to…Mariska Hargitay! For your patience I'll be posting 2 chapters instead of my usual one. Enjoy!**

True to his word Elliot goes to the FBI field office to talk. He tells the good doctor all the symptoms he's experienced since regaining consciousness in Curtner's basement. With his partner next to him, he makes sure not to leave anything out.

When he recounts the gruesome details for Dr. Huang, Elliot's no less upset than he was the first time. Olivia sits by his side through the retelling and he knows that if she wasn't, he'd likely not have been able to get it all out. George waits for him to compose himself before offering his insight.

"I'm going to ask you some questions and you if you've had these other symptoms as well," states Huang with a notebook in hand. "Let me know."

"Have you had headaches that have lasted longer than normal for you?"

"Yes."

"Have you had dizziness, irritability and/or a loss of concentration?"

"Yes to all three."

"What about anxiety?"

Elliot nods in the affirmative.

"I've had a chance to look over the results of your CAT scan and MRI and thankfully there are no abnormalities."

"So then what's wrong with me?"

"I believe you have Post-Concussion Syndrome."

"Is it serious?"

"It's not fatal and your symptoms could disappear in less than three months. But in rare cases they could persist for a year."

"Well let's hope he's not a rare case," chimes in Olivia.

"When can I go back to work?"

Olivia and Dr. Huang share telling glances. She's surprised it wasn't the first question he asked.

"I'm going to write you a prescription for Amitriptyline. It should help with the irritability, dizziness and anxiety. I'm also recommending three therapy sessions a week for the next three weeks. If you're still having this nightmare, and the anxiety and paranoia where Detective Benson's concerned, I'll reevaluate the situation."

"And if I'm feeling better in say a week, will you reconsider the other two weeks of therapy?"

Dr. Huang just smiles knowingly.

"Yes Elliot. If you show marked improvement and your partner can verify it, I'll reconsider them so long as you're honest when I ask you these questions again."

Elliot thanks the doctor, takes the prescription and leaves with Olivia following behind. The first stop they make is to the nearest drug store to get his meds. She doesn't know if she can take any more from his rollercoaster of emotions, especially if they cause him to kiss her again.

While he's waiting in the pharmacy, she decides to pop into the market next door to get food. If she's going to actually be home recovering for the next couple of weeks, she can't see ordering take out every day.

He seems to be feeling better now that he knows what's wrong with him. Olivia's surprised he didn't flip out when she informed him she was leaving his side but she's glad. Elliot needs to be sane and rational to be her partner. The idea of someone else filling that role in anything other than a temporary capacity isn't something she wants to think about.

"Get anything good?" Elliot asks from behind, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

"Um, yeah," she answers, continuing to load the bags from the cart into her Mustang. "Did you get everything you needed?"

"Yep, good to go," he says, helping her to load the rest of the bags.

"You need to go anywhere else before I drop you at your place?" she asks, pulling off the parking lot.

"In a hurry to get rid of me?" he asks, smirking.

"El it's not personal but we've literally been together for over three days. Only married people should have to put up with each another for that long."

He smiles at her candor.

"But if you can't handle-

"I'll be fine," he interrupts. "I took one of my little happy pills and I'm feeling better."

"Already?"

"Yeah. I feel a little less paranoid about you being alone, not a lot but I can handle it."

"That's good El," she tells him. "'Cuz I'm not spending another night with you snoring in my hair," she adds, grinning.

"I don't snore," he scoffs.

"You _so _do. It's not loud but it counts."

"Did I keep you up?"

"No. I actually slept better than I have in awhile," she admits.

"Me too," he says quietly, eying his partner. "Thanks for indulging my temporary insanity."

"You're welcome."

"And I-want to apologize."

"For what?" she asks, knitting her eyebrows.

"For everything, yelling at you, the random hugs-

"Kissing me?" she asks, switching off the ignition in front of his building.

He turns towards her, surprised that's she's brought it up. She seemed just as content not to discuss it as he's been. But she should know the truth about him putting his lips on hers. Elliot turns away again, looking straight out the windshield in front of him.

"I felt pretty lucid when I did that," he confesses.

Olivia all but gasps at his admission. She tilts her head to the side, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

"You did?"

He takes a breath and sits back against the seat, scrubbing a hand down his face in a familiar habit.

"As irrational as it was, I was genuinely worried when I woke up and you weren't lying next to me. After laying into you about leaving, I was sorry and at the same time just so-damned happy that you were okay."

She doesn't know what do with that. Olivia isn't used to her partner wearing his emotions on his sleeve, let alone actually sharing them with her. She feels them entering into the type of unfamiliar territory she'd thought them both too uncomfortable with to explore.

"I-wow."

"I know it must've been a surprise but I'm not sorry for kissing you. If I'm being honest it's not the first time I've thought about doing it. Sorry if I've made you uncomfortable."

"You haven't-

"It's okay Liv, really. I'll take my meds and talk to Huang so you don't have to worry about me pouncing on you in the cribs," he adds, trying to make light of the situation.

"Good to know," she responds with a half smile.

"I'll see you later," he says, opening his car door and getting out.

"Later."

As she watches him walk towards his apartment building she starts the car. Olivia knows she just missed the chance to tell him he isn't the only one that thought about that kiss. But it's an admission that would've changed their relationship. She's not sure she's ready for that. She's not sure she even _wants_ that.

Before she gets to her front door she's already put together and torn apart the type of personal relationship they'd have. She's ruminated about them fighting the way they do at times over cases. She's envisioned the _"I knew it all along" _look on his ex-wife's face when she'd find out. She's imagined his kids with a _"how could you" _look on their faces when they'd inevitably have to tell them.

Olivia is capable of discretion where her professional life is concerned. She knows about the rumors that have circulated about them for years. But his family, his _children's_ opinions, they matter to her. And so does their partnership. It's the one constant thing in her life that she depends on. If things change and she loses it….well…she doesn't want to think about the fallout.

As she puts her groceries away she thinks of that first night when they were intertwined with one another for warmth. Before it ended with him pinning her to the bed thinking she was the one trying to hurt him, it was pleasant. Waking up next to him two days in a row wasn't as weird as she thought it'd be and neither was the kiss they shared.

She wanted it every bit as much as he did and maybe longer. She's glad Elliot didn't point out how little resistance she offered when he was touching his lips to her skin this morning. Or the fact that she was kissing and touching him back.

Olivia's torn between the comfort of his friendship, the complacency being his partner offers and wanting him as something more. If it was just a physical attraction she'd no doubt be over it by now. She wishes she could say that was all it was with him.

-IV-

After a follow up appointment with his own doctor, Elliot is more than upset to find that broken ribs can take six to eight weeks to heal instead of the three told to him by the ER doctor. He'll be out for at least another month whereas Olivia will be back in a week. He has no idea what to do with that much free time on his hands.

Elliot's spent so much time in the company of his children for the last two weeks that they're likely screening their phone calls. And though Kathy would never deny him access to Eli, when she last picked him up she told him she thought their son forgot what she looked like.

So he decides to check up on his partner.

It's a Sunday afternoon and Olivia's curled up on her sofa in yoga pants, a tank top and hoodie reading a crime mystery novel. With her line of work it would seem the genre wouldn't be interesting but she likes something wrapped up nice and neat at the end. She knows from personal experience that things don't often work out so well.

She had a second date last night with a guy she met running in Central Park a week ago. Thankfully, her bruised face was a lot less so when he noticed her. Michael Antonito is a successful real estate broker. He's 6'2 or so with nearly black curly hair, green eyes with little flecks of hazel and a neatly trimmed beard. He plays racquetball sometimes but runs in the park six mornings a week. His schedule can be just as crazy and hectic so he understands about cancellations.

Olivia feels like she's in high school all over again. She smiles when she sees his name flash across her cell phone screen. They've had two hour conversations about absolutely nothing and she gets butterflies in her stomach when he smiles at her. His perfectly straight white teeth, olive skin and athletic body probably have something to do with that as well.

He's interested in what she does but isn't creepy about it. Michael comes from a large Italian family and she loves how affectionately he talks about them. Olivia's managed to dodge the subject of her own lineage but somehow she thinks he's the understanding type. He seems to be perfect and that scares her just a bit because that can't possibly be true. With her luck in relationships, he's bound to be secretly married or a serial killer.

Either way she's going to enjoy it while it lasts.

She's startled when her buzzer sounds alerting her to the fact that she has a visitor downstairs. Olivia's surprised and a bit apprehensive to find Elliot on the other end when she answers. She hasn't seen him since that day in Huang's office and didn't expect to see him again until he got back to work.

She gets up immediately when she hears his soft knocks. His bruises have faded as well and the dark circles beneath his eyes from the broken nose are gone too.

"Hey," Olivia says opening the door.

"Hey," he mimics as she moves aside to let him in.

"What brings you by?" she asks, settling into the corner of her sofa.

"I can't just drop in to see how my partner's doing?" he asks planting himself in an adjacent chair giving her a mischievous grin.

"Kids tired of you already huh?" she asks smiling back.

"How'd you guess?"

"I'm your only friend and if you're dating anyone, it's a well kept secret," she tells him. "Your kids were the logical choice."

"I do have _other_ friends you know."

Olivia tilts her head and raises one eyebrow in disbelief.

"Okay, okay so you're my best and only friend," he says rolling his eyes. "I'm officially pitiful. Are you happy now?"

"I don't exactly have a boatload of friends either and at least you _have_ kids to annoy."

"Hey, I'm not complaining," he says, holding is hands up in surrender. "What have _you _been doing to pass the time?"

Olivia debates with herself whether or not to tell Elliot about Michael. She thinks back to his admission about being lucid when he kissed her and how close they were to taking things further. Informing him about her budding romance may be the best way to get things between them back to normal.

"I've uh…I met someone."

"Have you? What kind of guy is this someone and what does he do?"

"He's a real estate broker, comes from a big family, doesn't have any kids, likes dogs but like me is too busy to take care of one, plays racquetball-

"Wow Liv. Next you're gonna tell me he's a Gemini and likes long walks in the park."

"As a matter of fact…"

"You gonna start doodling his name next to your case notes too?"

"Am I that bad?" she asks with a big smile.

"Yeah," he says, grinning back at her. "But I'm happy for you. What's this Casanova's name?"

"It's only been two dates and a lot of phone conversations so I think I'll keep that to myself. I wouldn't want you showing up at his job unannounced or anything."

"Hey, I did that _once_ to get that prick Moss to save your career."

"In any case, I think I'll keep that tidbit of information to myself a little while longer. I don't want you scaring him off."

"If he's so easily scared maybe he should find someone in a less dangerous profession to date."

"He can handle himself just fine El."

"So when do I get to meet him?"

"When I feel like it's going somewhere enough to warrant his torment," she says knowingly.

Elliot gives her a wide grin. How well she knows him he thinks. Fortunately she hasn't seen through the façade that he's happy she's found someone. He absolutely hates the idea that someone else gets to touch her, kiss her, hold her the way he had none too long ago.

"How are you feeling?"

"If you mean is the medication that Huang prescribed working, then yes."

"I can tell. You seem back to your old self."

"You mean because I haven't broken down in tears and I've kept my hands to myself?"

"No. It's because you're poking into my personal life already and you've barely been here ten minutes."

"How about I make it up to you?"

"You don't have to El. I'm used to it at this point."

"Ok. Do you and Mr. Wonderful have plans for today or can you spare some time for your partner?"

Olivia would love to try something different with Elliot and actually say what they want from one another. She wishes he could simply tell her he's missed her. But they've never worked that way and she doesn't see him changing any time soon. Also is the fact that she doesn't even know if she'd be comfortable if he did.

"I suppose I can pencil you in," she answers, tongue in cheek. "What did you have in mind?"

"The Yankees are playing the Sox. I was thinking we could watch that and maybe order some lunch?"

"Who's buying?" she asks with a smile.

"Me of course," he responds knowingly. "How else will you continue to afford all those leather jackets and boots you love so much?"

"That's cold El," she says, getting up from the sofa to get the menus off the counter. "You get the game on and I'll order _and_ pay for the food."

"I don't think I've ever tried _guilt_ on you before," he tells her, moving to the sofa to turn on the game. "Good to know it works."

She just smirks at him before picking up her cell and dialing Bellacino's for some hoagies. They arrive about a half hour later and the two detectives relax on her sofa.

It's easy between them as they watch the game. They comment on how good their sandwiches are, talk about the time he's spent with Eli and his other children and how Simon's handling life as a new dad.

With the lull in activity on the screen, the innings are stretched out even longer and they find themselves succumbing to the cool atmosphere of her apartment and bellies full of meat, cheese and bread. Elliot sits wide legged on the sofa with his arms resting on his stomach and his head against the back cushions. Olivia has fallen asleep against his sh0ulder.

Several hours later she awakens to his body movements and low mumbling. When she pulls away from him, she notices the sweat that's broken out on his brow. Her partner seems to be having another nightmare.

"El," she says, trying to roust him.

"No," he mumbles. "Liv, Liv, Liv."

He's breathing has increased and he begins to get more agitated.

"Please!"

"Elliot wake up!"

His eyes pop open immediately. He looks around the room disoriented until his eyes focus on Olivia. He takes a deep breath after realizing where he is and who he's with.

"You're okay," he sighs.

"I am El," she responds, momentarily placing a hand on his leg. "But are you?"

"Yeah, yeah fine."

"I thought you said the medicine was working."

"It is. It's just…every now and then I'll still have a nightmare…comes with the job."

Olivia gets up and retrieves a towel from the linen closet for him to wipe his face with.

"Thanks."

She nods before sitting back down next to him. She doesn't want to ask but she knows she has to.

"Was it the same nightmare you were having two weeks ago?"

Elliot turns away from her and tries to focus back on the game.

"What's it matter? All nightmares suck."

Olivia grabs the remote from her coffee table and turns the television off. She backs into the corner of the sofa, folds one leg beneath her and puts the other on the floor. She can be just as stubborn.

"Yes, okay? It was the same. Can we finish watching the game now?"

"No. How often have you been having it?"

"Two or three times a week," he says trying to reach for the remote. "It's no big deal."

Olivia is faster and grabs it before he's able to get it, putting it behind her back. She knows he's probably shaving those numbers. He could be having that nightmare every night and he wouldn't tell her.

"El, that's too often. Are you still having your sessions with Huang?"

"Yes."

"But you haven't told him you're still having it, have you?"

"It's not every night," he reasons. "You should just be glad that I'm not knocking on your door at 2a.m. possibly interrupting you and _Mr. Wonderful_."

"Don't do that Elliot."

"Do what?"

"Pick a fight with me so you don't have to talk about what's going on with you."

She does in fact, know him too well. He looks away from her ashamedly and takes a deep breath.

"Look, I'm sorry. I don't wanna fight with you. I haven't told Huang because he's gonna tell me what I already know."

"And what's that?"

"Once I get back into my work routine and seeing you every day, my sense of normalcy will return and I'll stop having the nightmare."

"Self diagnosing now are we?" she asks giving him a break and a small smile. Olivia hates fighting with Elliot just as much.

"I've had enough couch time to start my own practice," he says, reaching behind her for the remote.

When he's pulling his arm back Elliot pauses as she watches his movements. He's an inch away from her face when his eyes drop to her lips. They're staring at each other as if waiting to see which of them will give in. The urge to kiss her is almost more than he can handle. He thought the medication would help once he saw her again but it hasn't.

He still wants her.

"I should go," he tells her, pulling back and returning the remote to her coffee table. "It's time for my pills and I just realized I left them at home," he adds, getting up from the sofa.

"Okay," she says simply, walking him to the door.

"Guess I'll see you in a few weeks," he tells her with his hand on the knob.

"You don't have to wait that long you know. You clearly remember where I live," she says, smirking.

"You go back to work next week, which means back to our crazy, hectic schedule so you probably won't be here much anyway. But I'll call you."

"Okay."

Once he's gone, Olivia momentarily rests with her back against the door. Apparently, he's not the only one that needs to get back to a work routine. She knows he was going to kiss her or at least wanted to before he came to his senses. What scares her just a little bit is the fact that she wasn't going to stop him.


	5. Chapter 5

Three weeks later Elliot manages to convince Huang and Captain Cragen that he's fit for duty. He passes his doctor's physical exam and re-qualifies on the gun range. Come Monday, he saunters into the squad room a week ahead of schedule. And just in time to see Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome drop Olivia's favorite egg white, goat cheese and turkey bacon croissant off to her.

Elliot slows his steps to watch the interaction between the two. He sees his partner touch the stranger's arm while giving him a flirtatious smile. The man intertwines his hand with one of hers while she holds it against her thigh. As he listens to them talking in hushed tones, he thinks they're standing awfully close for this to be her place of employment. Then he mentally kicks himself when he realizes it.

He's jealous.

When he watches the man tenderly place a stray hair behind Olivia's ear and leans in to kiss her on the cheek, he balls his fists at his sides. They're completely oblivious to everyone else around them and he can't help but somehow know that they've already been intimate.

Elliot hates how incensed he instantly is at the thought. There's always been a hint of jealousy for all the men who've come and gone from her life. Only then, that little green eyed monster was more the size of a pet shop lizard. What he feels watching them now is akin to the size of Godzilla. He unclenches his fists in an attempt to calm himself before taking a deep breath.

"Good morning," he says, stepping up behind the stranger.

Olivia looks around her new friend noticing Elliot for the first time.

"Morning El," she responds, causing the man to turn and stand beside her. "You're back early."

"It was time," he says, eying her intently. "So who's this?" Elliot asks in the most nonchalant tone he can muster.

"Elliot, meet Michael Antonito," she responds trying to ignore the way her partner's looking at her. "Michael this is my partner Elliot Stabler."

He extends a hand to Elliot which he immediately grasps. The detective notices the man's strength and muscular build is just as defined as his, so he won't get away with trying to intimidate him. He's also noticeably taller.

"Nice to finally meet you Elliot," Michael says. "Olivia's said good things."

Elliot looks around the man at his partner as they end the handshake. She gives him her "_please behave yourself_" look before he turns his attention back to her new friend.

"She's spoken highly of you too so it's good to meet you as well," he responds, before addressing his partner. "Well I'm gonna go check in with the Captain."

"Okay. I'm gonna walk Michael out."

Elliot nods before heading for the Captain's office. He knocks twice before hearing his boss on the other side of the door.

"Come in," he says gesturing for him to sit in the chair in front of his desk. "How are you feelin'?"

"I'm good Cap. Got a lot done that I've been putting off. Spent so much time with my kids they stopped taking my phone calls," he tells the elder man garnering a smile from him.

"Even Eli?"

"No but Kathy was gonna file a parental kidnapping if I didn't return him so…"

The captain just shakes his head, giving a small chuckle. He's happy to have Elliot back and glad he's a lot less beat up than when last he saw him.

"I see you've met Michael," the Captains states, having noticed the interaction from his open blinds.

"I have."

"He seems like a good guy."

"Yep."

"And she looks very happy."

"She does."

The captain clasps his hands on the desk in front of him and leans forward before speaking sincerely to his detective.

"Then you won't be pulling your usual bullshit?"

"Such as?"

"You know how you behaved like a completely possessive asshole when Agent Porter was here?"

Elliot places a heavy hand on the back of his neck, rubbing it a bit before returning it to his lap.

He nods.

"Olivia's had enough crap happen to her in addition to what she's been put through on this job,_ because_ of this job. She deserves to be happy and if you care about her as much as I know you do, you'll let her have it."

"I hear you."

"Now that that's done," he says standing extending his hand. "Welcome back."

"Thanks Cap."

Elliot leaves the office and heads to his desk as Olivia's returning to hers. He sits down to boot up his computer, anticipating the hundred or so emails he's certain he's gotten while on medical leave. When he looks up, his partner is staring at him expectantly.

"What?"

"So what did you think of Michael?"

"He's so dreamy," he mocks in a flamboyant tone. "His eyes are so pretty and that body is just to die for."

Olivia just shakes her head smiling.

"I only spent five seconds with him Liv, what do you want me to say?"

"I just thought you may have formed some sort of opinion," she begins. "You don't usually have any trouble expressing one."

"Well I'm gonna keep it to myself until I know more about him."

"Wow El. That's really…_mature_ of you. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Each of them works on their respective files, getting caught up from their time away from the squad room. Munch and Fin go out on a call but the two of them remain at their desks.

After awhile, Elliot notices the way Olivia is burning through her paperwork. His pile is noticeably larger than hers even though she's had a few days head start. His looks as if it hasn't been touched.

"You in a hurry?"

"Huh?" she responds, pausing to look up.

"I'm surprised your pen doesn't have smoke coming from it."

"I just wanna finally get this all done. But yes, I'm meeting Michael," she adds, looking at her watch as she returns to filling out her forms.

Though he has absolutely no right to be, Elliot's instantly angry at the mentioning of the man's name.

"Well just make sure you don't make any mistakes while you're rushing through. It makes us _both _look bad."

"You never have to worry about _me_ making us look bad."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing El, stop trying to start an argument. If you want to talk to me about something just be an adult and do it."

Olivia eyes him over their desks for a few seconds, patiently waiting for him to tell her about whatever's bugging him. She has a pretty good idea it's about Michael but she won't be the one to bring it up.

When the expression on his face changes from one of anger to…_something else_, she has to look away. She shakes her head and resumes her writing.

By the end of the hour Elliot's found out at what real estate brokerage firm Michael works, where he grew up, who he plays racquetball with, anywhere he's ever lived, where he was born, the type of car he drives, any criminal charges and thanks to a contact he has at the CDC his medical history.

Elliot's equal parts happy and annoyed to find the guy to be squeaky clean save for a few paid parking tickets.

His defeated exhalation of breath gets the attention of his partner. Olivia sits back, crossing her arms over her chest and one leg over the other. She takes in the scowl on her partner's face, the vein popping out of his neck and the way he's rolled up his sleeves. Elliot only does this when he's about to dig in to something and he adjusted his shirt several hours ago.

"So what'd you find out?" she asks, knowing what he's been up to all along.

"About what?" he answers looking up from his monitor.

"Not what. Who."

"I'm not following."

"I know you've been sitting over there combing through Michael's life with a fine toothed comb so I was just wondering what you dug up?"

"Liv-

"Don't bother denying it Elliot. I know you better than that. I also know you haven't found anything because there's nothing to find."

"Just because I didn't find anything doesn't mean he's a good guy."

"That's for me to decide."

"You're my partner and I'm gonna' look out for you whether you want me to or not."

"Don't pull the partner card on me Elliot, you know this isn't about that."

"Then please enlighten me as to what this is about."

"You're jealous."

Elliot's nearly brought speechless at the mentioning of the truth. Beating around the bush is more their speed. Apparently he wasn't the only one hit hard enough to break their filter.

"Does he make you happy?" he asks, ignoring her accusation.

It's almost foreign to her how good she feels, but Michael really does that for her. He makes her laugh, brightens her day, gives her something to look forward to and she doesn't remember the last time anyone made her feel that way. At least not someone a relationship has a chance in working out with.

"Yes," she answers honestly after some thought. "He does."

"Good, that's good," he says almost sadly.

Shortly after their discussion Olivia shuts down her computer disappearing upstairs to the locker rooms. Elliot continues trying to focus on his paperwork but after awhile realizes how fruitless it is. His concentration is shot so he decides to gather some files to work on at home. After shutting down his computer he prepares to leave, accidentally dropping some paperwork on the floor.

"Crap!"

As he's squatting to retrieve the paperwork he hears Olivia's footfalls on the stairs. He ignores her until he sees her walking past him on the way to her desk.

Her signature boots have been replaced by tan peep toe heels showing off a fresh pedicure. Because of the summer heat, her shapely bronze legs have been left bare. Gone are the black slacks, dark blouse, badge and gun. They've been swapped out for a strapless black dress that torturously for him and any other man looking, hugs every damned curve of her body.

Elliot has to grab onto the desk to try to get his bearings before standing again. His partner is leaning over retrieving her purse from the lower desk drawer and he has to concentrate to keep his mouth from hanging open.

He wants to blame it on the medication Huang prescribed for his Post-Concussion Syndrome. He wants to blame it on her, calling it temporary insanity. But what he does when she turns to face him can't be attributed to anything but good old-fashioned desire.

"I'm gonna head o—

Olivia doesn't manage to get the words out because she steps to her, cups her face with both hands and covers her mouth with his. The kiss isn't hurried. It's tender and slow as he smoothes his lips over hers before stealing inside her mouth. She's in shock and doesn't stop him right away but after about fifteen seconds she lays her hands against his chest, taking a step back.

"What are you doing?" she asks him, getting a sense of déjà vu. She remembers how he kissed her in her bedroom. On her lips, her neck, in between her breasts and how hard it was not to let him undress her, how…_good_ he felt. But now there's Michael and they're back at work.

"I-I don't know…you're just so…you just-and I just-," he stumbles.

She's never seen him so flustered, especially where she's concerned. Olivia imagines he may have been the same way when he first asked his ex-wife out. It's a total one eighty to the self assured detective she's come to know.

Elliot doesn't have the words to explain his actions so he just leaves without giving any more effort to trying.

"I'm sorry," he says before making a bee line for the elevator.

"El, wait."

Olivia doesn't have the time to chase after him and not be late meeting Michael at the theater, so she lets him go. As she's reapplying her lipstick, she's thinking that she took her sweet time pushing him away. She doesn't want to admit to herself that she enjoyed the kiss but she did.

She wonders if it'll be ignored or if they'll discuss it. They never did talk about what happened in her bedroom. When Elliot called during his sick leave, it was always to talk about his kids or trivial things like the Yankees and Munch's latest conspiracy talk. The fact that they were seconds away from having sex never came up.

Olivia can't blame him. She was too chicken to bring up too. Perhaps tomorrow will bring some much needed honesty to their relationship.

Elliot thought he was okay with denying his feelings. The medication Huang prescribed for him has been working great for his paranoia. He hasn't had that nightmare about her as often and he's less depressed. But the last time they were alone together, he struggled with the desire to kiss her the same way he has tonight.

He can therefore only come to one conclusion. These feelings he has for his partner aren't going away. He had them to an extent before he sustained the concussion but it seems to have only brought them to the forefront and they aren't letting go. He vowed to himself not to hurt her as he has in the past and he aims to keep that vow.

So he makes the only choice he believes there is to make.

-V-

With his new existence as a bachelor and the fact that most of his children are grown, Elliot's life has become mostly about his work at the SVU. It's going to be a hard putting something down that's been in his life for nearly as long as his children. But he has to…for her.

Elliot promised the captain that he wouldn't interfere with Olivia's happiness and he won't. He's going to make good on the word he's given to a man whose become like the father he never had. And he loves her enough to let someone else make her happy.

With what he feels, he can't continue working side by side with her knowing that he would come between her and Michael. Elliot knows Olivia's known the man only for a short time but he may just be the uncomplicated relationship she needs. And unintentional though it may be, he knows he would sabotage that. He also knows leaving so suddenly will hurt her but it's not something he feels he has a choice in doing.

Once he got home last night he tried to sleep. He awakened after maybe three hours and decided to dive into his neglected paperwork. At 3am he made his way into the precinct and put a dent in the rest. Without Olivia sitting in front of him to distract him he was more focused. By 6am he was nearly finished with all of it.

Elliot sits alone at his desk in the dimly lit squad room working diligently. After his third cup of coffee he gets up to stretch the muscles of his back and legs. He walks with leaden feet into the file room to the cabinet near the back wall. The drawer is loud in the quiet as he pulls it open, squeaky from its lack of use.

He's perusing the multicolored folders when his right hand hovers over the one marked "Transfers". He grabs it quickly before he changes his mind. As Elliot's moving towards the door to leave, he hears it open and in walks his partner. He stops in mid stride as she approaches him, her expression not a happy one.

Olivia's been to this area of the file room on more than one occasion, everyone has. She's only followed through with one transfer request but with the struggles she's faced in the unit she's filled out the paperwork multiple times. She only hopes that the piece of paper she sees in her partner's hand is a requisition form for a more comfortable desk chair.

"What's going on Elliot?"

"Nothing," he says, trying to move past her but she steps in his path.

"Then what's that in your hand?" she asks, nodding in the direction of the request form.

"Transfer request," he nearly mumbles.

"Excuse me?"

"It's a transfer request form Olivia."

"What? Why?"

"I need a change of scenery," he says, attempting to move around her again. She lets him go this time.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He stops to face her again.

"I've done all I can do in this unit Liv. I'm tired and it's time to go."

"And when did you decide this? Before or after you kissed me last night?"

"I'm not doing this with you now," he says, turning to leave again. "Certainly not here."

Olivia is incensed and not willing to just drop the subject for a time that's more convenient for him.

"We were off for weeks Elliot, so I know you didn't decide _then _because you never mentioned it."

"Just drop it Olivia," he says, pausing at the door.

"No Elliot," she tells him, nearly yelling. "If you're gonna just up and leave after twelve years I deserve a damn explanation."

"I gave you one. You just don't wanna' believe it," and with that, he leaves her alone in the file room.

When he makes it back to the bullpen it's getting busier as more people begin to file in. They create a bustle checking their phone messages, calling back witnesses, coordinating interviews and vying for cups of coffee in the break room.

Elliot sits at his desk, resuming the completion of his paperwork. His partner doesn't reappear until twenty minutes later. Her makeup is reapplied but he can tell she's been crying and he hates himself just a bit more for reducing her to tears on top of leaving.

To her credit she picks up where she left off yesterday as well. She answers her phone with no trace of emotion in her voice, talks to other detectives and goes throughout her morning like nothing is wrong.

After having been in meetings with the brass all morning, Cragen doesn't arrive until 10:30am. As soon as he feels the captain is settled in, Elliot picks up the completed transfer form preparing to walk it into his office.

"El wait," Olivia says, finally looking over at her partner. She hadn't looked in his direction or uttered one word to him since they talked in the file room.

He sits back down again and eyes her over their desks.

"I'm not going to change my mind Olivia."

"Meet me for drinks or let me stop by your place. It doesn't matter, just-just talk to me before you do this."

He sees the sincerity in her eyes and even though she didn't say it, he hears the plea in her voice too.

"Okay," he says simply.

Cragen knows they're both getting caught up on weeks of piled up paperwork so he hands new cases off to Munch and Fin or other detectives. The rest of their day is relatively uneventful save for a couple of interviews and follow-ups on witness statements.

He hears her on the phone with Michael, rescheduling the date they had for tonight and nearly cringes. She's already ducking her new love interest for Elliot and he hasn't even left yet. It just cements for him the fact that leaving is the right thing to do for her.

"You didn't have to do that," he says as she disconnects the call.

"It's fine. We didn't have any big plans."

"We don't have to do this tonight Liv," he tells her while shutting down his computer.

"Yes we do," she responds doing the same.

"There's nothing left to discuss."

"We have plenty to talk about and you know it," she argues.

"Ok, fine" he says. "Let's go."

He doesn't want to have the inevitable conversation in a crowded bar during happy hour. He doesn't think taking her back to his place is a better idea since he's the one driving so he opts to take her home.

Twenty minutes later Olivia walks through her door with Elliot in tow. She deposits her purse on a nearby hook and makes a bee line to her bedroom to ditch her work clothes for something more comfortable.

"I'll be back in a second," she tells him. "Don't go anywhere."

She doesn't bother advising him to make himself at home, Olivia knows he will. Left to his own devices he opens her fridge, grabbing two beers before relaxing on her sofa.

When she returns she's in sweat pants, a tank top and her feet are bare. He smiles at the sight of her painted toes.

"What?" she asks, accepting the pilfered beer before sitting next to him, resting her feet on the coffee table.

"Those," he says, jutting his chin at her pedicure.

"I _am_ a girl you know," she says, wiggling her toes.

"I've noticed."

Olivia removes her feet from the table and tucks them beneath her as she turns towards her partner. She watches him for a moment until he looks in her direction.

"Whatever it is, you know you can tell me El. You don't have to leave."

"I do. So please don't fight me on this and trust that I'm making the right decision."

"The right decision for who? I deserve a better reason than _"it's time"_ or you needing a change of scenery."

He's too stubborn to just be honest with her for the asking. She watches as he stares blankly at her television before taking another sip of her beer. Olivia knows she'll never get it out of him if she can't even get him talking unless she pisses him off.

"You haven't been gun shy about speaking your mind in nearly five years Elliot. And since you're the one who's flaking out, you don't have to worry about it costing you a partnership."

"I'm not flaking out on you Olivia," he says, getting noticeably angry. "This is the best thing for both of us."

"What does that even mean? And since when do you get to decide what's best for me?"

"This was a bad idea," he says, sitting his beer on the table and getting up to leave.

"Don't do this," she tells him, sitting her own drink down as she follows him to the door.

"I need to go," he says, pulling the door open.

"Talk to me," she pleads, putting her hand against the door, slamming it closed again. "What's so bad that you have to end our partnership after twelve years with no explanation!"

"I told you!"

"Don't hand me the same crap you're gonna put on line fifteen of the form Elliot. Tell me the truth. I deserve that much!"

"You want the truth," he yells, turning the tables and pressing her against her front door. "Here it is."

"What are y-

"Just shut up and listen," he says, caging her against the door. "You were right. I am jealous of Michael," he says lowering his voice.

He's standing so close to her, their chests touch every time she exhales and Olivia can feel his breath on her face. With the intensity with which he's staring at her, she's nearly afraid to speak. Her arms are glued to her sides and she dares not move.

"And lately, I have these…urges," he confesses as his eyes momentarily slip to her lips. "And they aren't going away. These feelings are getting stronger and have nothing to do with my diagnosis."

"El-

"I'm not done yet," he rasps.

"That kiss last night was only one of a _hundred_ things running through my mind when I saw you in that dress," he continues. "The first being the fastest way to get you out of it followed closely by other places on your body that I'd like to put my mouth."

Olivia visibly swallows but continues to hold his eyes.

"All the many ways I could use to bring that low moan in your throat to your lips is on repeat in my head."

So he has been thinking about that morning in her bedroom, she thinks.

"And no Olivia, I don't feel these things because I'm just horny. If that were the case I'd just go to some bar and take a woman home to get my rocks off. I hope you know me better than that by now."

Elliot leans impossibly closer, placing his cheek against hers.

"I don't want someone I don't feel anything for," he whispers into her ear. "I want _you_."

Elliot pulls back to eye her again.

"And it's taking everything in me right now not to kiss you, not to touch you, not to just pick you up and carry you to your bedroom and make love to you all night like I wanted to months ago."

Once he's said his peace, he takes a full step back away from her.

"Now you know why I can't stay. You mean more than to me more than a partner should, more than any victim I'd have to save. And no, that won't be going on line fifteen of the form."

Olivia puts one hand on her hip and the other lays against the back of her neck. She takes a deep breath now that she's able to, then exhales.

"You can talk now."

"So you're leaving because you _want_ me?"

"I don't just want you, don't you get it? I l-

"Don't say it! Don't you dare say that shit to me after all this time!"

"Liv-

"Don't Liv me! You've had your chance to talk now _you_ listen!"

Olivia's chest is rising and falling rapidly with how angry she is. She tells herself that she has neighbors and paces to calm down.

"You've been divorced for nearly a year Elliot and you never gave me the slightest _hint_ that you were interested. You take me for granted and you only seem to want me when someone else has me. And now you wanna leave because it hurts?"

She turns to face him then, hands on both hips.

"Well suck it up," she rasps. "Our bond, our closeness has scared me at times. I admit it. And when I thought it would jeopardize our partnership, I took a break but this is _not_ the same."

"No. It's not."

"You won't be down the hall in Computer Crimes. Who knows where you'll end up?"

"I know."

"You don't think watching you go back to Kathy made me feel like shit? But I handled it and did my damned job!"

"You saw how I was with Kurt Moss, Dean Porter and any other man that came sniffing around Liv and I was married at the time," he reminds her as he steps closer. "Imagine how much I could screw up your relationship with Michael now that I'm single. It would be a lie to say that I wouldn't when we both know I would."

"I wouldn't let you," she says adamantly, crossing he arms over her chest.

"You cancelled on him tonight for me," he points out.

"That-that's different I-

"You've always made excuses for me Liv," he says, closing the distance between them. "You said it yourself you're happy and I want you to stay that way."

"You're not just my partner Elliot, you're my best friend and you're leaving," she manages in a voice laden with emotion. "Do I look happy to you?"

"You're just upset right now."

"Why can't I have it all El? Why do I feel like you're making me choose?"

"I made the choice so you wouldn't have to. It'll take time but we'll be okay."

"I don't…know what to do about all this."

"Right now you say goodnight," he stays stepping towards her again.

He lays a hand against her cheek, smoothing the pad of his thumb against her skin. Olivia reaches up and wraps her fingers around his bare forearm.

"And at the end of whatever time I have left at SVU, you say goodbye because you know that I'm right. I'm unfocused, distracted and someone could get hurt. Be selfish for once Liv," he says, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Do something for _you_," he finishes as he pulls back again.

"It'll pass," she tries as her eyes begin to glisten with unshed tears. "Just give it time."

"This isn't gonna just wear off Liv," he begins. "And no amount of therapy or medication is gonna change how I feel about you. I'm not sick…I'm just…I'm not sick," he concludes. He won't try again to say he loves her. It'd hurt them both.

He smiles sweetly at her before leaning in again to place a lingering kiss to her cheek, avoiding temptation. Elliot then steps around her and opens her door.

"Goodnight Liv," he says, pausing for a reply.

"Goodnight El," she responds without turning to see him leave.

Once Olivia hears the door close softly behind him, she locks it before moving back to her sofa. She slowly lowers herself to the cushions, bringing both hands to her face. The tears fall freely now as her upper body shakes with the release of her sobs.

She knows he's right. Olivia feels the same about him, has the same attraction, those same urges. She's just better at hiding them. Then again she's had a lot longer to practice. Though she knows the potential with Michael is there, she can't help but wonder how a relationship with Elliot would've been if not for their circumstances.

**Let's not forget to review shall we?**


	6. Chapter 6

"Liv?"

No response.

"Babe?"

Finally she snaps out of her daydreaming.

"Huh?"

"I asked if you wanted orange juice or just coffee."

"Coffee's fine."

Michael steps out of her kitchen to join Olivia on the sofa. He picks up her feet putting them in his lap so that he can sit down.

"Where'd you go?"

"What?"

"You spaced out on me there for a second."

"Sorry. Just work on the brain I guess."

"Hey it's Sunday," he says, patting her feet before returning to the kitchen. "And we both promised we wouldn't so much as think the "w" word."

Olivia smiles as she tries to refocus her efforts into reading the Sunday edition of the Times.

"You're right, sorry."

"If you get over here and join me I'll forgive you," he tells her, standing shirtless at her stove.

She drops the newspaper on her coffee table to meet him in her kitchen. He faces her, wrapping his arms around her waist while inadvertently pulling up the dress shirt that she's wearing. _His_ shirt. Olivia wraps her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to kiss him. They keep it short before they separate, sitting at her counter to eat.

"This looks really good Mike, thanks."

They sit down to enjoy warm buttery croissants and a variety of fresh fruit.

"You're welcome," he tells her in between chews. "So what do you want to do today?"

"I was reading about a couple of exhibits at the MET that I've been meaning to see," she offers.

"That sounds good but," he pauses leaning over to kiss her on the neck. "We could," kiss. "Stay here," kiss. "In bed all day," kiss.

"Oh no you don't," she says smiling. "We did that last Sunday. Today we're actually putting on clothes."

"Spoil sport," he tells her, pulling back to resume his breakfast.

She's been with Michael for seven months now. He's a breath of fresh air in a life routine that had become stagnant. When she decided to tell him about her lineage one night after dinner with his family, he'd listened intently.

He hadn't tried to come up with the right words to say immediately or tried to seem like he instantly understood her.

"_However way you got here doesn't matter to me," he'd said. "I'm just glad that you are here and that I'm getting the chance to know you."_

Since then, when they're not working they're together every chance they get. He's held her after some horrible cases and she's there for him when deals that take him weeks to close sometimes fall through.

Turns out he's not secretly married and so far as she knows he's not a serial killer either. Olivia cares about him deeply but is still afraid to call it love. She's not commitment phobic by accident. She's been hurt before. But the more time she spends with him, the more she can't help but imagine the possibilities of a life with Michael.

She's 98% happy and 2% pissed. And that wee percentage has a name.

_Elliot._

Cragen managed to find a place for him in Homicide at Manhattan South's 13th precinct. He remained at the 1-6 for another two weeks before he was transferred out. He respected the boundaries of their partnership and her burgeoning relationship with Michael.

He hadn't touched her by accident or even so much as looked at her too long during his last days at SVU. He was professional, courteous and treated her the same way he had before Curtner gave him a concussion.

It was unnerving and kind of insulting.

The Elliot that she nearly had sex, that kissed her so sweetly in the squad room, that could barely contain the desire to carry her off to her bedroom, that _wanted_ her, couldn't possibly be the same man she had worked with those last weeks.

Where were his so-called _uncontrollable_ urges?

Maybe he had decided to just find some woman to get his rocks off with. She couldn't think of any other reason for the quick turnaround unless the man truly had a will of iron. He was _that_ stubborn. But shouldn't she have been thankful for that?

She doesn't like being dishonest with Michael, but Olivia can't tell him what she's really thinking when she spaces out on him.

Elliot's exit wasn't to be anything formal. Just drinks after work with the squad to say goodbye to a long time friend and colleague. So of course she had to go. He was her partner for twelve years so she was obligated. Not to mention she would regret it if she hadn't said goodbye to him.

Now she can't help but wonder if that wouldn't have been better.

"_That was…fun," she said, smiling politely as they stepped outside of Mattingly's Pub on a wet, let August night. Thankfully it'd stopped raining._

"_Yeah, who knew Fin was one of those 'I love you man' type of drunks," Elliot said, making her laugh._

"_Or that Munch would wax philosophical? Conspiracy theories are one thing but he was nearly poetic," she added._

_Neither of them wanted the night or their partnership to end. Elliot stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. Olivia swept an unruly hair behind her ear. After a few minutes she exhaled an exasperated sigh before giving up on him saying anything more. She put her hand in the air to hail a taxi._

"_I can take you home," he offered._

"_Haven't you been drinking too?"_

"_I nursed two beers all night Liv, I'm fine."_

_She'd watched him as he listened to the war stories and embarrassing moments. He had told some of his own, smiled appropriately and accepted every round while surreptitiously passing them along to his coworkers. _

_He had smiled at her on more than one occasion and even winked a time or two at the retelling of their exploits in the unit But it wasn't the smarmy type of attention that someone in a bar who'd just as soon take you up against a dirty bathroom stall would give. _

_Elliot's looks and winks had been those of kinship, of fighting together against evil in human form for over a decade, of missed opportunities. Olivia saw all these things in his stormy blue eyes along with a touch of sadness for something that never was or wasn't meant to be._

"_Okay," she'd said, agreeing to the ride._

_The trip to her apartment was relatively quiet. She'd asked about his kids just to hear his voice for awhile longer but was disappointed when he'd simply replied with, "they're good."_

_The car braking to a halt in front of her building was enough to make her eyes burn with unshed tears. This was it. She really had to say goodbye to him. During the last couple of weeks she kept expecting him to tell her he'd changed his mind. That he couldn't leave. That he couldn't leave _her_. _

_But it hadn't happened and now there they were._

_They sat together for what seemed an eternity. It'd started to rain again and they both focused on watching the windshield in front of them as the droplets cascaded down the glass. She couldn't let him go without wanting to know why._

"_Why didn't you let me choose?" she'd asked, nearly whispering._

"_This job has taken enough from you. I didn't want to add to that," he'd answered, never turning in her direction._

"_That doesn't make any sense."_

"_I already told you why Liv. It hasn't changed."_

"_So you still…have those…feelings?" she'd chanced, looking over at him._

"_Yeah, so I started seeing Huang again. It's…helped."_

_That had explained his new found steel will. But he had a question of his own if it was going to be their last night as partners._

"_You said it'd pass Liv. When did it pass for you?" he'd asked, finally returning her gaze. _

"_I don't think…something like that does," she'd begun. "I think someone comes along and maybe…adds to it or makes it seem less than what it was, but I don't think it goes away…not completely."_

"_It's just that when you're alone it seems like…," she tried._

"_Everything," he finished for her, turning his attention back towards the windshield._

"_Yes…everything," she rasped, mimicking his position._

_She couldn't say that he'd been that far longer than she cared to admit. She couldn't say that she wouldn't be satisfied at the time with just anyone either._

_She and Elliot had their chance. And they both let the window of opportunity close for something more between them._

_He had surprised her when he'd reached for the hand resting on the center console. She hadn't hesitated to turn it up, so she could intertwine her fingers with his. Olivia hadn't tried to hide her tears from him as they turned to face each other._

_Elliot used his other hand to cup her cheek and swipe the moisture from her face. He leaned his forehead against hers and whispered against her lips._

"_I have to go."_

_Olivia squeezed her eyes shut as more tears cascaded down her cheeks mimicking the rain on the glass._

"_I know," she managed._

_Overwhelmed by the moment, Olivia did something that had surprised them both. She laid her other hand against the nape of Elliot's neck and pressed her lips against his. She meant for it to be short and sweet but the idea of not seeing him any more took over._

_Olivia moved her mouth against his smoothly, nibbling on his lower lip until he opened his mouth so she could taste him fully. She tried to put every emotion she could never say to him into that one kiss. She had never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him in that moment even though they couldn't act on it. _

_In the end, Elliot was the one with the presence of mind to pull back. He'd rested his cheek against hers before moving away from her altogether. _

"_Don't start something you'll regret later Liv," he'd whispered_

_When he put the car in gear, she figured that was her cue to leave. She grabbed her purse and went to open the door._

"_You should know," he began, pausing her actions. "I do l-_

"_Please don't," she said abruptly, turning to eye him again, pleading with her expression._

"_I can't not-_

"_And I can't hear this-_

"_Well you're going to because I can't chance possibly never seeing you again without getting to tell you at least once!"_

"_Please," she begged in a whisper, dropping her eyes to the carpet at her feet._

"_Please…let me," he rasped, calming enough to caress her cheek. _

_Olivia turned towards him as Elliot moved his hand to the back of her neck. He leaned forward to whisper the words into her ear. She pulled back slowly after his admission to see the intense blue of his eyes and she knew he'd meant it. _

_It broke her heart to hear those words from him so she dared not return them. The pieces of her would've been too many and too small to pick up. She turned away from him abruptly and pushed the door open._

_She'd run the distance in the rain from the car into her apartment building and didn't stop until she climbed the four flights and was inside. There she was safe and there, just inside her front door without bothering to hang her coat, is where she'd broken down._

She'd been angry with him since. Why couldn't he have just told her to flick her lights when she was safely in her apartment? That would've been simpler. She wouldn't have _that_ resonating in her head.

Olivia doesn't even remember whether she'd closed the car door behind her that night. All she knows is that she had to get away before he saw how much those three words had affected her.

What happened to talking in vague circles, subtexts, hidden meanings that were obvious to them both? If he'd left to spare her the pain of a doomed relationship, then why did it hurt so damned much anyway?

She enjoyed her time with Michael at the MET and the subsequent surprise picnic he planned for them in Central Park. He is one of the most romantic men she's ever been with and the good thing about him is that he's not afraid to show it.

The downside is that Olivia isn't into public displays of affection so she finds herself constantly reminding him to tone it down to a PG-13 version while they're out. But when they're behind closed doors the man is damned near insatiable.

"I really, really wish we didn't have to work tomorrow," he whispers, kissing her neck as they stand at her front door.

"Me too," she responds, smiling. "But the newbies are still in need of guidance so I have to."

"I know what you mean," he says, pulling back but not removing his arms from her waist. "I have a new broker I've been showing the ropes to myself."

"Lucky him," she responds.

"Lucky _her_ actually," he reveals. "She can be kind of annoying but she's a fast learner."

"Sounds like Rollins," Olivia tells him. "But she's growing on me."

"What about that new partner of yours? How are things going with him?" he asks in a softened voice.

She's told him how long she and Elliot were partners, how effective they were and the bond they grew to share. But she omitted the part where he left because he couldn't handle his feelings for her.

"He's good," she admits. "Open, patient with the victims, willing to learn how to do the job right."

"How are _you_ doing with the change?"

"Hey what happened to no work talk on Sundays?" she asks, conveniently changing the subject.

"Right. Sorry," he says, giving her one last kiss before he lets her go, opening the door. "I'll call you."

She gives him a nod and manages a smile before locking the door behind him. As open and honest as he is with her, Olivia knows she's holding back from doing the same with him. He's intelligent, funny, thoughtful, attentive and amazing in bed so she can't figure out why. Michael is freakishly perfect.

There are times when she has to remind herself of that fact when she can't stop thinking about her former partner. More specific, his parting words to her the last time they saw one another.

Ah well.

Tomorrow is a new day. And Nick has more than proven he can be counted on. She's more focused than she's ever been and for the first time in forever her life is balanced. She has Michael in her private life, she's still in communication with Calvin thanks to generous and open minded grandparents, she has a small but loyal circle of friends and though painful at times, a personally rewarding career.

Her life couldn't better. Why then, does she feel like something's missing?

-VI-

As she awakens to the sound of her ringing cell phone at 3am, Olivia's thankful that she went to bed earlier than usual.

"Benson," she answers, groggily on the fifth ring.

"Olivia, it's Cragen."

"Yes Captain."

"A body was found at a junk yard in Alphabet City, I'll text you the address."

"Have you called Amaro already or do you need me to?" she asks, throwing the covers off to get dressed.

"I have him working an acquaintance rape in SoHo but someone's gonna meet you on scene."

Olivia knows Fin and Rollins were catching over the weekend. But before she has the chance to ask if she should call Munch or if he has, he's already hung up.

Maybe she'll end up working this one solo. Munch being the only other person available, has been doing less field work and more supervising whenever Cragen's out of the office so she doesn't expect to see him at such an abysmal hour.

Olivia weaves her way around the various makes and models on the dirt and grass lot of the junkyard trying to get to the crime scene. She follows the spot lights that CSU has set up to enable them to process evidence in the dark.

She's relieved when she finally sees Melinda squatting next to the corpse, already at work. From what she can tell the body is that of a man. He's naked and in a sitting position at the base of a chain link fence. His arms are zip tied above his hooded head and his legs are spread out before him.

The body is covered in bruises, nasty cuts, deep and shallow as well as vicious bite marks that look to have been made by wild animals. His fingers look broken and bruising is evident even beneath the chewed flesh.

"Hey Melinda, what do you have for me?"

"His hands are not simply broken but crushed, possibly with a hammer. Cause of death was probably exsanguination," she begins, gesturing over the body. "Cuts were made to several major blood vessels, femoral, brachial and inguinal among others. My guess was to ensure that the _rats_ would show up."

"Rats?"

"Yes. The body was covered with them when we arrived and judging by the abrasions on his heels I'd say he was dragged here."

"Who called it in?"

"It came in anonymous. When the patrol officers came to check it out, this is what they found."

"This guy was beaten and tortured, probably somewhere else first, then brought here where he was left to be chewed to death by rats?"

"Looks like it," replies Melinda.

"You have to be really angry and really patient to do that to someone. This guy didn't die quickly."

"I'd say the initial torture took hours."

"Okay. But as horrible as this all is, why am_ I _here? You didn't mention any bodily fluids and just because he's naked, doesn't make this a sex crime."

Melinda stands up, looking over her shoulder at an approaching officer.

"That's a good question," says a familiar voice.

Olivia turns as Elliot steps past her to get a look at the body of the man restrained to the fence. He raises the hood taking a look at what's underneath and manages not to wince. After he gives it the once over, making notes in a small pad, he turns towards the two ladies again.

"Judging by the half of his face that _hasn't_ been eaten," he begins. "I'd say that's James Curtner," he answers, motioning behind him with his thumb.

She turns at the medical examiner with a look of disbelief.

"Sorry Liv, I was just about to get that."

Before she can say anything to Melinda, her phone begins to vibrate in her back pocket.

"Yes Captain," she answers, eying the caller I.D. before picking up.

"Olivia I take it you've made it to the scene?"

"Yes. But why am I here? Curtner's no special victim and this doesn't look like a sex crime," she contends. "It should be kicked to homicide."

"I want you to work this with the 1-3. It was you and Elliot's case," he explains. "I figure you'd both fight harder than anyone else to find the person that robbed you of the pleasure of putting Curtner in a cell."

Elliot's busy trying to look busy while pretending he's not listening to Olivia's conversation with his former boss. She takes a few steps away from him to thwart his efforts.

"I'm still showing Nick the ropes," she argues. "I don't think he's ready to handle cases without me yet."

"He won't be alone Olivia," he tells her. "Fin, Munch and I are still here in case he needs help. And Amaro's not exactly a rookie. He'll be fine."

She can't find fault with his reasoning. Olivia puts a hand to her forehead in a familiar gesture, letting out an exasperating breath.

"How long are you farming me out for?"

"Until it's solved or run's cold," he answers, smiling on his end of the phone at her question. "More than likely it won't be more than a week. I'm sure you and Elliot will be just as swift and effective as you've always been."

"Right."

"If you believe that's changed, let me know now."

There's no way she's going to tell him otherwise. She never let her feelings for Elliot compromise a case and she isn't going to start now.

"We're good Captain."

"Great. Keep me posted."

And with that her boss disconnects the call. Olivia shakes her head but walks back towards Curtner's body to begin making her own notes.

"How long do I have you for?"

Elliot couldn't have chosen a poorer choice of words. Olivia's head pops up and she narrows her eyes at him.

"The _1-3_ has me until it's solved or we run out of leads."

Elliot ignores her tone. He shakes his head and continues making notes.

Melinda supervises as her techs cut the restraints from Curtner's hands before wrapping them to preserve any evidence he may have under his nails. They then load him into a black plastic body bag, put him on a gurney and roll him out to the Medical Examiner's van standing by.

"It's nice to see you two working together again. I'll call when I have something," says Melinda, before leaving to let the CSU continue processing the scene.

The two detectives stare at each other for a moment before realizing they need to get to work.

"We should get with T.A.R.U to see if they can pull anything from the call," suggests Olivia.

"I've talked to them already," Elliot explains. "They said they'd get a hold of us if they find anything useful."

"Then I'm gonna' head over to the squad for the case files on Curtner. I'll meet you back at the 1-3," she says before turning to leave.

"Ok," he says, returning to his car.

An hour later they're sitting in the homicide unit of the 13th precinct combing through every scrap of evidence they'd managed to collect on the serial killer. The station is larger than SVU and they've been given a conference room equipped with all the office equipment they'll need, phones, computers and a white board to work out the case on.

They both have their heads down concentrating on finding something that will lead them to a suspect. Elliot sits at one end of the small table, while Olivia's at the other. Physically they aren't far apart. But emotionally, they're both trying to remain as distant as possible.

After another two hours Elliot disappears for about ten minutes. When he returns he drops a breakfast croissant and coffee the way she likes in front of her without a word. She's equal parts grateful, surprised and a little miffed that he's barely spoken two words to her.

"Thank you."

He simply nods before biting into his breakfast burrito.

"How's your partner gonna feel about me being here?"

"Won't care," he answers between chews. "He's on maternity leave."

Silence reigns in the small room as they finish eating. Olivia hates that she notices that he still tucks his tie into his shirt while he eats, that he sips coffee after every bite and that he puts grape jelly in his burrito instead of salsa or ketchup. She manages a small smile at his predictability.

"What's so amusing?"

"It's just…you haven't changed."

He eyes her intently over the table before responding.

"No, I haven't."

Elliot stares at her just long enough to make her turn away. He had the same look in his eyes the last time she saw him. She refuses to acknowledge the feelings it stirs so finishes her croissant and reaches for another file as a distraction.

A bit later her phone rings.

"Hey," she says, seeing Michael's name flash across her screen. She turns so that her back is to the table, hoping Elliot doesn't hear every word.

"Good morning beautiful, you must've gotten an early start today."

"Yes, very early."

"I guess I'm gonna be eating breakfast alone then," he says, trying to sound as if he's pouting.

"I'll make it up to you later," she says, trying to whisper, an impossible feat in the quiet room.

"Tell me how."

Olivia feels her face flushing red at all the possibilities and there's not a thing she can do about it. Luckily for her Elliot's phone begins to ring.

"As much as I would like to share that with you, I'm at work so it'll have to wait."

"Tease," he says, instantly garnering a small laugh from her.

"Sorry," she tells him, completely insincere.

"You are _so_ not. But I'll let you off the hook anyway. I'll call you later and maybe we can have lunch?"

"I don't know but we'll see. Talk to you later."

She disconnects the call and notices her former partner staring. Elliot concluded his conversation moments before and is drumming a pen against the table, waiting on her to finish. It's an obvious expression of his impatience.

"If you're done, Melinda has something for us."

"I'm done," she says, getting up from the table. "Let's go."

She can feel the tension rolling off of him as they board the small elevator. The box on a string makes it to the third floor before jolting to a stop. She hates when they instinctively reach for one another so as not to fall over.

"Has this happened before?" asks Olivia, as they move away from one another.

"I don't know," answers Elliot, stepping away from her to press the intercom button for help.

"Yes," says a tinny voice.

"We seem to be stuck. Can you help us out?"

"Have you tried jumping up and down," asks the voice.

"What?"

"Sorry sir, just a little elevator humor."

"Its detective and I'm really not in the mood for jokes right now."

"I apologize. I'll try to see what I can do detective."

They both hear some typing and clicking before the main lights of the elevator go out and the red emergency lights come on.

"What the hell's going on?" he asks the voice.

"Sorry sir-I mean detective, it's sort of my first day and I'm still learning how to work this new touch screen."

"So when exactly, do you think you'll be able to get us moving again?"

Olivia simply leans against the back of the small space with her legs crossed at the ankles. She's glad his moodiness is being directed at someone else at the moment.

"Umm…my—my boss went on a breakfast and coffee run," he stumbles. "He said not to touch anything until he came back and that no one usually comes in."

Olivia can't resist a chuckle at the thought that Elliot's intimidating the man over a speaker. That doesn't usually happen unless it's in person.

"We'll he was obviously wrong so can you get us the hell out of here or not?"

"I really don't think I should touch anything else," he tells him. "My supervisor should be back real soon though."

"Does he have a phone or an emergency pager on him?"

"He accidentally left it here."

Olivia is trying to stifle a laugh as Elliot's getting angrier. He turns and fixes her with a glare and the grin fades from her face.

"What kind of time frame are we looking at?" he asks, pressing the button to talk to the idiot in the speaker again.

"Maybe, ten minutes."

"Fine," exhales Elliot. "But the second he gets back from his _Dunkin Donuts _run, you tell him to get us moving."

They hear a rustling against the speaker and then silence. He takes a deep breath, scrubbing his hand down his face in frustration. A few minutes later they're sitting on opposite sides of the elevator on the floor. The silence is less than comfortable so Olivia decides to engage her former partner in conversation.

"How's homicide going for you?"

"Fine."

"What's your new partner like?"

"Good."

"How are the kids?"

"Okay."

"Am I gonna be getting one word answers from you from now on?"

Elliot takes his time before responding to her question.

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing Elliot. I just figured since we're stuck in this elevator, maybe we could…I don't know…catch up or at the very least make small talk."

"Catch up? Okay. Homicide is less emotionally draining because there are no live victims. My new partner's very capable. He has book knowledge, he's street savvy and he was an Army sniper."

"I'm happy you're in such good hands."

"The kids are fine too," he continues, less tense than before. "Eli is enjoying kindergarten. He can't stop talking about the Patty's day parade I took him to."

Olivia smiles at the news. She's always loved his kids and hearing about them and their antics over the years.

"I'm sure he loved it."

They both stand as the main lights come on again, anticipating the movement of the elevator.

"Yeah. How's everyone at SVU?"

"I'm…we're ok. It was a definite adjustment at first. With Munch playing more of a supervisory role whenever he's not there, Cragen brought in two new detectives."

"How's _your_ new partner?"

"He's learning fast. Like Fin he came from Narcotics so he's street smart. He's already saved my life once."

"I'm glad."

"How-do you…" she begins, trying to gather her thoughts.

"Are you trying to ask if I regret leaving?"

Elliot turns to face her as she does the same.

"Yes."

"I was there for over twenty years Liv," he begins, saying her nick name for the first time since seeing her again. "Despite my other reasons for leaving, it really was time to go. So no, I don't regret it."

"But," he says, momentarily touching her arm before she can turn away from him. "I do regret one thing."

"And what's that," she asks, as the elevator doors open to the parking garage.

Elliot takes a step closer to her, completely invading her personal space. She knows he's trying to intimidate her and she's not falling for it. Olivia refuses to look away first this time. As unnerving as it is, she holds his gaze.

"I regret," he begins, quickly dropping his eyes to her lips before raising them again. "Taking you for granted and letting you go without a fight.


	7. Chapter 7

Elliot heads towards the car before she has a chance to blink. He can hear her hurried steps as she moves to catch up. He unlocks his sedan with the key fob to let her in before sliding behind the wheel.

"I'm at a loss for words," she tells him. "What do I say to that Elliot?"

"You don't have to _say_ anything."

"You just said you wished you would've fought for me. And I'm not supposed to say anything about it?" she asks incredulously.

"The last response I got from you was a car door slammed in my face," he says starting the car. "So you'll understand if I'm not chomping at the bit for your next reply."

"That's not fair Elliot," she tells him, putting on her seatbelt. "You have no idea what hearing that did to me."

"And you have no idea what _not_ hearing it back did to _me_," he says, putting the car in gear.

He stares at Olivia for a moment so that she can read in his eyes just exactly what kind of pain she caused, what it cost him to have whispered his, _"I love you,"_ and get nothing in return.

She's left speechless and he feels a bit triumphant. Those three words aren't something he throws around haphazardly. And the last time he saw her, in _that_ moment beyond all others, he thought he could count on hearing them back. So when she left him sitting in a car in the pouring rain with no response, it hurt him which in turn pissed him off.

Kathy sending him divorce papers out of the blue was simply a blow to his ego. It surprised him and he stubbornly refused to sign them, the _first_ time. But with telling Olivia how he felt about her and her subsequent rejection, he was swiftly and painfully educated on what it truly means to be brokenhearted.

His new captain loves him. During his first few weeks in homicide he had completely thrown himself into his new work. His dedication to getting justice for the families of those taken too soon was a great distraction from his heartache. Elliot had no time to pine over Olivia and what might have been. There were cases that needed to be solved and the clock ticked faster in the homicide bureau. It was just what he needed.

But now, being in the same car with her, smelling her shampoo, hearing her voice and simply being in her presence is something he can do without. She was the source of many sleepless nights and now…he needs his rest. Hopefully Melinda has some useful information for them.

His former partner has been thankfully silent on the drive over. Then again, there's nothing left to say.

Melinda smiles momentarily seeing, what are secretly her two favorite detectives, push through her lab doors.

"Hey doc," says Elliot. "What do you have for us?"

They follow her over to Curtner's body where she pulls the sheet back to show them what she's found.

"Didn't find any fluids that would indicate he was sexually assaulted in any way but I did find saliva on his face," Melinda informs them. "DNA is female."

"Are you saying a woman might've done all this?" Olivia asks, gesturing over Curtner's body.

"I can only say that one spit in his face," she answers.

"Did anyone pop in the system?" Elliot asks.

"No, but there's more. These cuts were precisely and cleanly made, more than likely with a scalpel or a very sharp knife," she begins.

"So we're looking for someone with medical knowledge?" asks Olivia.

"Or at the very least has had college level Anatomy," chimes in Elliot.

"It's not as simple as that," advises Melinda. "There are no hesitation marks," she says, pointing out the cuts on the body. "This person has either been practicing or is a professional."

"Anything else?" asks Elliot.

"I found two small round burn marks on the back of his shoulder," she informs him. "He was probably hit with a stun gun when he was taken."

"This bruising we see in the hollow of his elbow," starts Olivia. "Are these puncture wounds?"

"Looks like a spider or a snake maybe," says Elliot, checking out his other arm.

"I had a tox screen done," Melinda tells them, walking to a nearby table to retrieve a clipboard. "Trace amounts of paralytic venom were found in his system."

"Venom from what?" asks Olivia, surprised.

"A Black Mamba," she tells them. "It's indigenous to Africa but it wouldn't be the first time someone has gotten an exotic pet past Customs. A woman in Putnam County was killed by one she had as a pet a couple of years ago."

"You said the initial torture took hours," comments Olivia. "Wouldn't a bite from a snake like that have killed him sooner?"

"Yes, without the proper antivenin," Melinda explains. "Death would've taken place in less than an hour depending on how much venom was released. In that time the victim initially experiences symptoms such as tunnel vision, severe confusion, fever and ataxia, a lack of muscle control. Death would've occurred without the antagonist."

"So he would've been in severe pain, disoriented," says Elliot. "And he wouldn't be able to fight back even after being given the antivenin."

"That's right," responds the doctor.

"Then being dragged to that tow yard and cut up for the rats was just a final screw you," adds Olivia.

"Hey I just tell you the how," Melinda tells them. "You guys figure out the why."

"Thanks Melinda," says Olivia before they both head back out.

**-VII-**

Once they make it back to the car Olivia hesitantly continues talking about the case. She wants to discuss what Elliot said to her earlier but she knows once his emotional wall is up it'll only come down when he's ready. She's not certain she wants to open up that can of worms either.

"Do you think it's a possibility that someone didn't kill him just because they had a grudge?" she begins, buckling her seatbelt. "Maybe they tortured him to get information?"

"His fingers were crushed by a hammer," he says, doing the same. "As excruciating as that was, they probably had the snake bite him and then withheld the antivenin until he told them whatever it is they wanted to know."

"But what kind of information could he have had that warranted going through such a painful interrogation?" She asks. "Until he turned into a serial killer he was just a general contractor."

"We need to check the missing person's database when we get back," he tells her, starting the car.

"You're thinking he kidnapped another girl?"

"Yeah and someone caught up with him before we could."

"And hopefully before he could kill her, that's why they tortured him. To find out where she was," she deduces before reaching for her ringing phone. Olivia doesn't look at the caller I.D. before answering.

"Benson."

"Hey babe, how's lunch lookin'?"

"Not too good," she tells him. "We're following leads right now and we'll probably end up working right through."

"So that's two meals you're gonna have to make up for," he says, flirtatiously.

Olivia looks over at Elliot. He has his sunglasses on so she can't see his eyes but she can see his clenched jaw, the tightening of his grip on the steering wheel and a vein pulsing in his neck. He knows its Michael on the phone so she switches ears.

"Yeah, guess so," she answers simply, keeping her professional tone.

"Looking forward to it."

"Me too."

"I'm having this mixer tonight for clients so I won't be able to do dinner but call me later babe."

"I definitely will. Bye."

After disconnecting the call, she can't help but feel the atmosphere in the car has dropped at least ten degrees. Just when they were getting back that thing that made them the best at SVU, one phone call seems to have taken them back to square one.

"We've already been on this for hours. If you wanna take an early lunch, go ahead," Elliot offers. "I'll let you know what I find out."

Olivia looks at him like he's grown a second head. He knows there's no way in hell she's gonna' bow out when they have a good lead.

"I'm good," she tells him. "I can get something later."

Elliot simply nods.

Ten minutes later and they're walking into the bullpen of the 1-3. The hustle and bustle of a station house is in full swing when they return.

"Come on," he tells her. "I think it's time you met the captain."

She follows behind Elliot as a few detectives and uniformed cops take notice of the new face walking through the squad room.

He knocks twice before a very deep voice from the other side of the door tells him to come in.

A dark skinned black man is sitting behind a desk talking on the phone. He gestures for them to take a seat and hangs up his phone shortly thereafter. His name plate reads, _Captain Jackson Kirk_.

"You must be Detective Benson," he says, extending his hand. "I'm told we're lucky to have you, even temporarily."

"Just happy for the opportunity to work this case Captain," she tells him before releasing his hand.

"Well Cragen sings your praises," he continues. "He said good things about this one too and I haven't been disappointed," he says, jutting his chin towards Elliot. "So I doubt he's just paying you lip service."

"I must remember to thank him when I see him again," she responds.

"So either of you manage to narrow down any suspects?"

"Not yet Cap," Elliot answers. "But we have some ideas. We think somebody tortured him for information only he had."

"What kind of information?"

"We're thinking he may have kidnapped another girl before he was killed," Olivia chimes in. "And that he refused to give up her whereabouts without some _incentive_."

"I've seen the crime scene pictures," says the captain. "He went through a lot before he was killed. And the way he was killed…_brutal_. Why not just give up the information immediately?"

"Curtner was into S&M and had a very high tolerance for pain," Elliot says. "When beating the crap out of him didn't work, they got creative."

"I see. Well I'll let you two get back to solving this thing," he tells them, standing. "I hope the conference room we set up is ok. Let me know if you guys need anything else."

"Will do Cap," says Elliot.

Once the door is closed behind them, Olivia finds herself barely containing a giggle. Elliot looks at her strangely as they walk back into the conference room.

"Okay I'll bite, what's so funny?" he asks, sitting down to boot up the computer.

"You work for Captain Kirk," she says, really laughing now.

"That was good for a chuckle for about five minutes after I started working here," he says but smiles anyway. He's always loved her laugh because she didn't do it nearly enough when they worked together. The subject matter of the cases they had didn't leave much room for joviality.

She eyes her watch then says, "Then I have about three more minutes to go."

Elliot shakes his head but can't help but laugh a little too. Apparently her glee is contagious and he finds that being with her like this is easy. He misses it, misses her. Before he recognizes what he's doing, he's smiling at her across the small table, showing off his dimples.

For her part Olivia smiles back. When the look he's giving her turns from one of playfulness to one of flirtation, she refocuses her attention to her computer.

"So how is Captain Kirk to work for?"

"He's fair, tough at times but no worse than Cragen and he doesn't put up with near the amount of bullshit that I got away with at SVU."

"You're actually behaving yourself here? Cragen'll love to hear how your new captain managed to make that happen."

"Well my kids are older so I've learned to worry less. I don't see them in the victims as much because we don't work child homicides. I'm divorced so no one's calling to see if I'm gonna' make it home for dinner. And I don't have anything distracting me from focusing solely on my job. So yeah, I'm behaving myself."

Olivia doesn't think he's ever revealed so much about himself all at once. In her absence he appears to be thriving professionally. But personally, he sounds lonely and bitter.

She doesn't know how she should feel about that. Sad, maybe?

"Although I do look forward to seeing Eli every chance I get," he says offering a small smile. "I get to see more of him than I did the others when they were that age. It's fun just watching him play sometimes," he tells her, as he begins typing.

"I bet."

They both get lost in looking for a match to the profiles of Curtner's past victims. After about twenty minutes Olivia thinks she's got something.

"El, I think I may have found what we're looking for."

He stifles a grin as he gets up to go around to her computer. It's the first time she's called him that since they parted ways. Elliot looks over her shoulder at the missing person's file she has pulled up.

"Natalie Tripp, 19 year-old white female. She went missing four days ago in between her parent's house and walking three blocks to a friend's," Olivia informs him.

Elliot leans in closer for the details. She ignores his proximity and the familiarity of his scent. His lips are at her eye level and she tries to forget what it was like to kiss him the last time she saw him. She instead refocuses on the monitor in front of her.

"It looks like it was cancelled yesterday," she offers.

"Reason for cancellation says, _'Subject Found'_," he reads as his phone begins to vibrate.

"Hey," he answers after checking the caller I.D. "It's good to hear from you."

Olivia doesn't want to listen but the small room doesn't really lend itself to privacy. He stands upright again walking back towards his side of the table.

"Wednesday night may work but I'll have to get back to you," he says to whoever is on the other end.

"I'll definitely do that," he says, a smile in his voice. "Talk to you later."

He may be bitter but it seems her idea that he's lonely is completely off base. If she's not mistaken, that sounded like future plans with a woman. She's not jealous. She's with Michael so she's not jealous.

She's _not_.

Her phone begins to vibrate, thankfully saving her from the awkwardness beginning to settle into the room after overhearing his conversation.

"Benson," she says. "Okay, we'll be right down," she adds then disconnects the call.

"That was CSU," she tells him. "They have something for us."

"Let's go."

Twenty-five minutes later and they're walking into Captain Siper's lab.

"Detectives."

"Hey Cap, what do you have for us?"

The older woman picks up a clipboard from a nearby table and begins her review of evidence found at the crime scene.

"There was only one set of impressions left from the previous night's rain. They put your perp somewhere between 200lbs to 240lbs, 6' to 6'3".

"Zip ties were generic and could've been purchased anywhere. There were no fingerprints found on them or on the body."

"What about DNA?" Olivia asks.

"No but I took a soil sample from the abrasions on his heels and there were two types."

"The tow yard brings in cars from all over the place, how do we know it's not transfer from one of those?" asks Elliot.

"Because this soil sample was beneath the layer from the tow yard," she explains, bringing up an onscreen digital analysis of Curtner's skin layers.

"The first layer matches various samples taken from the yard. The second sample is a combination of natural metals and acidic compounds not found anywhere else at the scene."

"Can you tell what area it came from?" asks Elliot.

"I used the USDA's Geochemistry Spatial Database," says Capt. Siper typing until she brings up the chemical compositions and map on the digital screen. "And I found that it matched an area in Sullivan County."

The two detectives give each other knowing glances before turning their attention back to the CSU supervisor.

"Judging by the content, I'd say some place fed by the lake and possibly used for farming."

"Okay thanks Captain," Olivia says, following Elliot back out the double doors.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asks, as they walk down the corridor.

"Yeah. That bastard was tortured in the same place he left us."

**-VII-**

"The guy evaded us at every turn El," comments Olivia, as Elliot is driving. "Why would he be stupid enough to stick around?"

"For that exact reason. He knew we didn't think he would," he tells her. "Plus he got comfortable here. Maybe that's why he thought it safe enough to snatch another girl."

"Well it's too late to coordinate everything we'd need to search for the primary crime scene."

"Don't wanna get lost again huh?"

"No. I don't," she tells him. "It's 8 o'clock and I'd rather go back up there with the state guys in the _daylight_ to make sure that doesn't happen."

"True. And if I remember right, there's no cell service up there either."

"Yeah. Yet another reason why driving the hour and a half it'd take to get there is a bad idea tonight."

"Okay, so where to? Back to the 1-3, SVU or do you want me to just drop you at your apartment?"

"My apartment is good," she tells him. "I'm gonna go home, order Chinese and try not to pass out in my lo mien."

"That tired huh?"

"We _have_ been going at this since 3am."

"True. I guess I'm just on a different schedule now that I'm in Homicide," he offers. "Dealing with that 48-hour clock we try to beat can be a bit of a rush sometimes."

She looks over at him and shakes her head a bit, smirking.

"We're on the same clock when there's a homicide in Special Victims," she reminds him. "You know that."

"Of course. I guess it's just…_different_. We don't have to investigate the deaths of children so I don't have to imagine such horrific stuff. I focus more on dissecting that person's life like a puzzle," he explains. "It feels…a bit lighter I guess."

Olivia watches as he explains his new role in Manhattan South's Homicide unit. Now that she's passed the fact that she's working with him again, she can see that he's changed. Physically he still looks the same of course but he's calmer, his shoulders are relaxed, he's not doing that white knuckled driving that causes her to grasp her seat belt from time to time but he's still just as passionate about what he does.

He's probably been happy to have her and their complicated, convoluted relationship out of his life. According to Captain Kirk he's thriving, doing just fine without her. Well good for him.

"I'm glad you're adjusting so well," she says. And when she gives it thought, she realizes it's true. Olivia wouldn't want him to be miserable. They've hurt one another enough.

"Thanks," he responds, pulling up outside her apartment building.

Olivia gives a nod before reaching for the door handle.

"Wait," he says.

She watches as he fumbles with the keys while they're still in the ignition. He manages to get one off the ring without having to shut off the car.

"Here," he tells her.

"What's this?"

"It's…your emergency key. I thought maybe your new partner should have it."

When she grasps the key, their fingers touch briefly and she knows something is still there from just that minimal contact. That and the fact that it stings a bit that he's returning her key after having it for so long.

"I forgot you even had this," she says, looking down as she turns the key over repeatedly in her fingers.

"Yeah well, I'm just happy I've never had to use it."

"It was a waste of a copy anyway," she begins. "We both know you could've just kicked the door in," she adds, grinning as she glances sideways at him.

"True," he tells her, returning the smile.

"See you tomorrow," she says, getting out of the car.

"I'll pick you up," he tells her. "And Liv?"

She leans her head into the car window.

"Flash your lights?"

"Sure."

"And El," she says, before tossing her spare key back at him.

He catches it one hand, piercing his eyebrows together in question.

"You're too old to still be kicking in doors."

Without waiting on a response she enters her building.

To her, taking back that key would sever the last bit of connection they have to one another. And though she has a new partner in Nick and someone she may be in love with in Michael, Olivia's not as ready as she thought she was to let Elliot go.

**-VII-**

Once she gets inside her apartment, she flashes her lights like she said she would. But suddenly she has a second wind. And, she no longer has a taste for Chinese food either so she decides to change.

She takes a shower, pins up her hair and refreshes her makeup before donning a strapless, knee length blue dress with an empire waist that flares and flows as she walks. Michael always texts her the address of his parties in case she decides she wants to join him. But with her crazy hours, she never has.

Until tonight.

Olivia arrives by taxi to the SoHo loft. It's a modest size and she estimates there to be about fifty to sixty people in attendance. The place is tastefully decorated with various cream and white booths and tables along one side and a bar on the other. The floor is hardwood and there are sconces lining the exposed brick walls, giving the room a more personal feel.

A DJ booth is at the rear of the space and there are two wrought iron winding staircases on either side of the room leading to a mezzanine level. People are there both socializing and dancing to the heavy throb of the music below. She doesn't spot Michael right away so she decides to ask someone where the ladies room is.

When she enters the bathroom it's surprisingly vacant. She chooses a stall and is pulling one of those toilet seat liners from the wall when she hears the door open and the laughter of a couple of women as they enter.

"I think this is Mike's funnest party yet," says a woman with a slightly slurred high pitched voice.

"You do know funnest is not a word, right?" asks a woman with a Spanish accent.

"Thank you, grammar police."

"So how's his new trainee Lorna working out?"

"She seems to be learning fast. This party or mixer or whatever it is, is also to celebrate closing her first deal," informs squeaky.

"That was nice of him."

"Well we both know how _nice_ Mike can be."

In the stall Olivia freezes, her ears perk up and she holds her breath.

"Well he's single so he can be _nice _to anyone he wants," Spanish voice begins. "But I haven't heard about any of his exploits in months so maybe he found someone."

Olivia lets out a quiet but shaky breath. At least they know he's taken. But he doesn't sound as if he discusses his private life at his job either.

"Well it's good that that _someone_ isn't here right now," says Squeaky. "Mike and Lorna had a couple of cocktails and appear to be in a celebratory mood. And you know that song…"

"What song would that be?"

"_Whatever Lorna wants_," she begins singing.

"The song says Lola not Lorna," corrects Spanish voice.

"Whatever. I saw those two headed towards the roof."

"I'm sure they're just talking. It _is_ loud in here."

"I see I made a bad choice tonight in choosing you as my designated driver," starts Squeaky. "Because clearly you've been drinking if you think that's all they're doing up there."

"I have not but I think you've had enough for the both of us," advises Spanish voice. "Let's go."

Olivia is trying to calm herself. Her adrenaline is pumping and she's trying not to rush out of the bathroom like a bat out of hell. She's not going to get angry and she won't believe anything she's heard until she's able to confirm it for herself.

She of all people understands how untrue office gossip can be. She and Elliot had to deal with it for years.

Olivia gathers herself, flushes the toilet and opens the stall door. She washes her hands, gives herself the once over in the mirror and exits the bathroom.

She calmly and coolly climbs the winding staircase closest to the mezzanine with the door marked, _'Roof Access'_.

When she steps onto the tarred surface she quietly lets the door close behind her. She's in detective mode instantly, like she's stalking a perp. As she scans the roof she doesn't see anyone but she hears…_something_.

When Olivia walks to her left the noise gets fainter. In veering back to her right the sounds gets louder. There's grunting, panting and heavy breathing.

His back is to her as she approaches them. His pants are around his ankles and he's pounding away inside a blonde with her legs wrapped around his waist. She's sitting on a central air unit and he apparently was chivalrous enough to put his suit coat down first.

"Michael?"

He stops in mid stroke and turns.

"Olivia?"

She sees the shock on his face register before the embarrassment and fear kick in. Michael scrambles to pull out of his trainee and yanks his pants up, trying to tuck his shirt in as if not looking presentable is first on his list of problems.

"Liv, let me explain."

She looks at him like he's just grown a second head out of his neck. Then she laughs that laugh people do right before they snap.

"Are you fucking kidding me!"

Lorna has stealthily pushed her dress back down, slipped back into her stilettos and begins walking swiftly passed the pissed off detective giving her a wide berth. Olivia smells the scent of her perfume caught on the breezy rooftop.

"Please just…give me a chance."

"Let me guess, she fell down and you were helping her up…with your dick!" she screams, pacing back and forth like a caged lion.

"It wasn't like that."

"Really? Then your pants accidentally fell down, a strong wind blew and her vagina broke your fall!" she yells, pointing her finger in his face before stalking away again.

Michael cautiously approaches her, but knows better than to touch her.

"I've known her since high school. We went to college together and shared the same major. She was my best friend but we never-

"Well you did tonight," she says cutting him off, but lowers her voice. Her hands are on her hips as she focuses on the tarred roof. She can't stand to look into his eyes right now.

"Yes," he admits. "I'm sorry…but yes. We'd been drinking…we were celebrating and one thing led to another."

"Are you seriously blaming this on alcohol?" she seethes, as her head pops up to cut her eyes at him.

"I'm not…it was…a factor…but no. I'm sober enough to know what I was doing. It was stupid and I'm so, so sorry Liv," he says in an emotional voice, stepping closer.

She refuses to cry in front of him so she holds onto the rage that has adrenaline pumping through her, causing her hands to shake.

"Is this the first time you've cheated on me?"

"Yes and I promise baby, it's the last," Michael asserts, placing a hand against her cheek.

She closes her eyes at the familiar gesture, takes a deep breath and refocuses on his green eyes. They're glassy eyed and sorrow filled.

"I can still smell her on you," she tells him, taking a step back before slapping him. "So yeah, it will be."

Olivia turns, making swift strides towards the rooftop door.

"Liv I love you!"

It's been so long since someone has said that to her. It hurts down to her very soul that he didn't say it to her when they were cooking together, cuddled on her sofa on a Saturday morning, holding hands as they shopped or just because he caught her eye across a room.

"Baby, please!"

Olivia keeps walking, yanks the door open and leaves him on the roof. She would've punched him but doesn't want to have to explain the swollen hand in the morning.

**-VII-**

She's too pissed to go home and she doesn't want to feel like she got dressed up for nothing so she walks down the block to the nearest bar. It's a nice neighborhood bar that's unusually busy for a Monday night. Perhaps she isn't the only one from Michael's party who decided to leave early.

Three different men offer to buy her drinks. She lets them each buy her a shot before she sends them packing. Apparently her body language or pissed off expression didn't deter them.

Two more assholes who hoped to get lucky tonight bought her another couple of drinks. By the time she downs the last one, she knows she's done because the idiot starts looking like a possibility.

After she walks out into the cool of the evening, Olivia decides she still doesn't want to go home. Her arm is in the air hailing a cab and before she knows it or even thinks twice about it she's giving the driver _his _address.

She doesn't think about why he's the first person that comes to her mind. The first person she thought of as a distraction to the betrayal she had the displeasure of witnessing.

Though her steps are precarious on heels, Olivia's still in control and manages to make it up the flight of stairs to his second floor apartment. She places two soft knocks on his door and waits. When there's no answer she does it again but louder.

Elliot answers the door wet from the shower and wrapped in a towel from the waist down. He eyes the dress, the heels, the hair and makeup with a look of surprise.

"I thought you were going home to pass out in your lo mien."

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah," he answers, pulling his eyebrows together in confusion as to why she'd ask.

"Good," she says, smiling. "Can I come in?"

Elliot takes a step back to let her in and excuses himself to put on some clothes. He comes back clad in NYPD issued sweat pants and she's barely moved from her spot at the door save for putting her coat, scarf and purse on a nearby chair.

"What's up?" he asks, standing before her.

She surprises him by closing the short distance to clasp his face in her hands before descending upon his lips. Elliot is shocked for about two seconds before putting his arms around her. Olivia begins suckling his bottom lip before stealing into his mouth.

His body's response is swift and impossible to hide even in the thick sweatpants and she's only kissed him. He has to pull back before he embarrasses himself.

"Liv, what's goin' on?" he asks, out of breath.

"Early birthday present," she answers before placing warm open mouthed kisses along his neck.

Elliot closes his eyes, trying to control his breathing and the rest of his body's responses to her. He has a strong suspicion that her sudden carnal desire for him has something to do with her boyfriend and the alcohol he can taste on her.

"Olivia," he nearly growls, putting his hand on her waist to pull back again. "What happened between you and Michael?"

"There is no more me and Michael," she tells him. "Now stop asking questions."

"Something happened and I wanna know what it was," he says more aggressively, taking a step away. "You've been drinking too and not just your usual beer so what gives?"

"I caught him screwing some bitch on the roof at his party!" she yells. "Are happy now?"

"No Liv. I'm not," he tells her, laying a caressing hand to her face.

She yanks away from him.

"I'm not drunk Elliot and I'm not fragile. So I don't need you to talk softly and be gentle like I'm some victim," she spits. "I didn't come here for your pity."

She grabs her things and is headed for the door.

"Then why _did_ you come here?"

She looks at him with fire in her eyes. He sees the anger, the rapid rise and fall of her chest and how she's nearly vibrating with need. Elliot's never seen this side to her, has only witnessed it in himself.

Now he knows _exactly_ why she came to him.

He crosses the room, threads his hands through her hair and kisses her in such an all consuming way that she drops her coat, scarf and purse at her feet. Olivia kisses him back just as fervently, reaching beneath both arms to clasp his shoulders.

After kissing one another breathless, she steps away from him long enough to drop the side zipper on her dress and let if fall to the floor. Apparently the garment has a built-in bra because she isn't wearing one and the panties she's chosen barely pass as such with the lack of material they're made of.

She toes the ridiculously high heels off before peeling the hose down her shapely tanned legs. Then she closes the short distance between them, puts her arms around his neck and crashes her mouth onto his again.

The kiss is aggressive, a clash of lips, teeth and tongue. He moves his hands to put his arms around her waist, pulling her close and leaving no daylight between them. He then smoothes his hand up the inside of her thigh until he reaches her panties.

He teases the outside of them with two fingers, rubbing them against her center. In response she bites his shoulder causing him to hiss.

"Stop fucking with me," she whispers in his ear.

"I thought that's exactly what you wanted me to do," he responds before ripping her underwear away from her body.

She gasps in surprise at his actions and the sudden coolness but doesn't protest when he slides two fingers into her. As he adeptly rubs and teases her, she feels a mini orgasm that steals her oxygen. Now she knows why it's called the "little death". And that's just from his hand.

"Shit," she manages, before lifting her leg over one of his hips, opening herself to him more.

"The bedroom is back there," he says, motioning with his head while meeting her eyes.

"No," she tells him.

You make love on a bed and that they are _not _doing.

"Couch," he offers, before latching on to her neck while continuing his ministrations below.

"Fuck that," she rasps. "Here. Now."

Elliot doesn't hesitate. He pulls his sweatpants down low enough to reveal he hasn't bothered with underwear in his haste to throw something on. He grabs the back of both Olivia's thighs and backs her into his front door.

"Are you sure?" he asks, leaning away to look her in the eyes.

"Yes," she says, adamantly. "Now quit-

He slips inside before she has the chance to finish her sentence, causing her to gasp again. He's only in about halfway but he wants to let her know what she's getting herself into.

"Now I'll ask again. Are. You. Sure?"

Olivia clenches her jaw, the anger still evident in her eyes. She crashes her mouth on his, biting his lower lip before invading his mouth with her tongue. Then she crosses her ankles around his waist, effectively pulling him into her completely.

"Yes," she answers him. "Just. Fucking. Move."

Elliot grasps her thighs, pushes her harder into the door and begins doing what she wants. He's smooth in his movements but not gentle. He creates a rhythm with his hips but it's gruff. He's not intentionally hurting her but he is angry that she's come to him for this, like this. But he can't deny her.

"Harder," she says, moving her arms from around his neck. Her nails leave streaks of red in their wake across his back.

Elliot growls but continues. He pistons his hips, knocking her into the door with every stroke but cushions her head with his hand. He dips his head to her right breast, harshly latching on to the erect nipple. He drags his teeth over the sensitized bud before using his tongue to press on it like a button and sucking on it. His left hand palms her other breast, kneading it with his thumb.

Olivia nearly comes unglued from the attention. She's panting, her arms are around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist. Elliot's moved his mouth to her neck, sucking at the soft flesh he's found there.

He has a death grip on her thighs that'll more than likely be evident come tomorrow morning but she doesn't care. Her body is on fire and she's nearly passes out from the exquisite pain and pleasure of it all.

She wants this. She needs this and it doesn't take long before another orgasm is building in the pit of her stomach, spreading throughout the rest of her. There won't be anything mini about this one.

He moves to kiss her again and after a few more strokes it hits her, _hard_. She screams out unintelligibly and Elliot's own release follows shortly thereafter in a low growl.

Olivia drops her head to his shoulder, panting and trying to get her breathing under control. They stand, still joined together a few more minutes as her small tremors subside.

When she recovers, she raises her head to look into his eyes. She seems less angry and back to herself like some type of demon has been exorcised.

"Did you get what you wanted?" he asks, slowly letting her down to stand on her own two feet.

"Yeah," she answers, already reaching for her dress.

"I'll get you something to sleep in," he tells her, disappearing towards his bedroom before she can stop him.

Olivia doesn't want to stay. She got what she came for and now she just wants to go home. She's stepping into her shoes when he returns with a large t-shirt and some boxers for her.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks.

"I need to go Elliot."

He's instantly angry. He doesn't want to be clingy, needy or possessive but things will only get worse for them if she doesn't stay.

"This is already fucked up enough without you leaving right now," he says. "We don't have to talk about…this. But you need to-

"Okay…I get it," she tells him.

Olivia wasn't thinking of him when she came to his apartment but she is now.

Elliot told her he was in love with her the last night of their partnership and probably still is. They have to work together, have a case to close. He left because she chose someone else and neither Elliot nor Olivia thought it'd work between them. All of those complications and _none_ of them stopped her from knocking on his door tonight.

If she doesn't want to further ruin whatever shred of a friendship, relationship or whatever the hell they think is left, she needs to stay.

"Here," he tells her, handing her the clothes. "The bathroom is the second door on the right."

After she showers and changes, Elliot leaves her with the choice of the sofa, a spare bedroom or laying next to him.

He's on his back staring at the ceiling in the near darkness, arms folded behind his head when her silhouette appears in the doorway. Neither of them says anything as she pulls back the blanket to crawl in beside him.


	8. Chapter 8

When Elliot wakes up, he's alone. He gets out the bed checking his three bedroom apartment and comes up empty. Olivia's not there. When he goes to the bathroom he finds a sticky note taped to the mirror.

It simply reads, "Thanks, Liv."

He can't say he blames her for leaving before he woke up. The morning after a one night stand is difficult enough. But with their history, to her the idea was probably completely nerve-wracking. It doesn't stop him from being pissed, hurt at being used.

He's supposed to be driving her to work this morning. The note didn't mention anything about not picking her up so he assumes they're still on.

After he showers and dresses he checks his cell phone to see if she's left him a message maybe saying she'll take a taxi or the train in. There's nothing, nada, zilch so he heads over to her apartment.

A long time neighbor of Olivia's notices him and lets him into her building after they've exchanged pleasantries.

When he gets off the elevator onto the fourth floor he hears screaming coming from behind one of the doors. As he gets closer to her apartment, he realizes it's where the noise is coming from.

Inside the apartment, Olivia and Michael are standing in front of one another in her living room arguing. He came groveling a little while ago with orange juice, fruit and her favorite croissants. Unfortunately, she wasn't impressed or in a forgiving mood.

"You had one foot in and one foot out of this relationship any way Olivia!"

"You are _not_ going to blame me for this!" She says, pointing a finger in his face.

"I'm not blaming you but at least _Lorna_ was emotionally available!"

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You're still hung up on him Liv! You never let him go!" he says, throwing his hands up.

"Who in the hell are you talking about!"

"You know damned well who I'm talking about! Your ex partner for God sakes! You've even said his name in your fucking sleep!" he yells, pacing away from her.

"For one, I'm not responsible for what I say while I'm unconscious and for two, if I'm so hung up on him, then why have I been with your sorry ass for seven months?"

"I don't know. I _have _been screwing your brains out all over this damned apartment!"

She looks for and finds a hardcover book to hurl at him.

"You arrogant son of a bitch! You think I was just with you for _sex_? How desperate do you think I am? I cared about you until I found you screwing _Lorna's_ brains out on that damned roof last night!"

"I explained that!" He tells her, after ducking Dante's Inferno.

"That explanation didn't amount to shit! She was just an itch you never got around to scratching!"

"I told you it wasn't like that!"

"Look," she begins, taking a breath. "You cheated, you got caught and now we're over so leave," she says in a calmer voice.

Michael watches as she walks away from him to stand at her window. He can't help but notice the difference in her gait since last he saw her.

"Where'd you go last night after you left?"

"What does that matter?" she asks, not bothering to face him.

"Because we haven't had sex since Saturday and you're walking like you've been riding a fuckin' bull that's what."

Olivia finally turns around and stares at him in disbelief.

"Get out."

He looks at her with a knowing smirk.

"What I did last night with Lorna must've been of great relief to you," he starts. "You were looking for an excuse to bail and you found one."

"I told you to leave," she says, raising her voice.

"You were waiting for the other shoe to drop and it finally did," he continues. "You went to him last night didn't you? Just friends huh? Just partners huh? My ass!"

"Now!" she screams, pointing at her front door.

"Fine!" he yells back, opening the door forcefully. "You are such a fucking hypocrite!" he throws over his shoulder. "And by the way, that makeup is doing nothing to cover up the hickie he left on your neck!" he yells, slamming the door shut behind him.

Michael brushes passed a very surprised Elliot, not bothering to excuse himself or apologize.

"Good fucking luck," he snidely says to the detective before continuing down the hall with his trash bag full of belongings.

Elliot is tempted to go back down to the car and pretend like he didn't hear all of what half the building has probably heard. But just as he's about to turn and walk away, her door opens and she steps out.

"Elliot," she nearly gasps, leaning against the door.

Given the fact that he has absolutely no frame of reference in their relationship's history for an appropriate response, he keeps it simple.

"Hey."

"Hey," she mimics.

He hands her the coffee and then turns silently towards the elevators again, knowing she'll follow. It's the longest, most tension filled elevator ride he thinks he's ever had.

Elliot unlocks the doors and they slide into their respective seats. He hesitates before turning the ignition.

"Liv-

"Please just…drive Elliot."

**-VIII-**

The car ride is silent all the way to the 1-3. Once they arrive, Elliot does the talking to the captain as they coordinate with the NY State Police to search Curtner's property.

He doesn't relish the idea of driving an hour and a half upstate with Olivia knowing everything that's happened between them but he has no choice. He tries to quell his own anger knowing how unproductive they'll be if they're both pissed. She's been more than quiet as they get on the road.

"Have you heard from Calvin lately?"

"Yeah, he's doing okay."

"Good…that's good."

Every now and then he looks at her. She's intently focused on the world gliding past her window seemingly in her own little universe. No doubt she's thinking of the blow up she had with Michael this morning or the sex she and Elliot had last night.

She rejected him for Michael and got hurt and according to her ex she wasn't fully committed. He hates wondering why that is. He hates that he doesn't want to just screw her against a door, that he wants to make love to her in so many ways, so many times and in so many places that she'll forget her _own_ name and Michael's too.

But what he hates the most is that she was buzzed and angry when she came to him last night.

"We should interview Natalie Tripp when we get back," he suggests, trying to distract his thoughts.

"Yeah."

"I doubt that she was just gone for a several days because she was hanging out with friends."

"Right."

"I think I'll get my nipples pierced tomorrow," he says, momentarily looking over at her.

"Okay."

"Earth to Detective Benson."

"Huh?"

"Have you been listening?"

"No, I'm sorry. What were you saying?" She asks, turning her head to face him.

"I was just saying that we should talk to Natalie Tripp when we get back."

"Ok."

"Are we ever gonna talk about it?" he asks, garnering her instant annoyance.

"Do you really expect me to talk to _you_ about my very loud and very embarrassing break-up?"

"I was talking about last night." he corrects her, feeling his own anger creep back in.

"I don't think talking about _that_ is a very good idea right now Elliot. I'm sure you and half of Jersey probably heard every insult and accusation of my breakup this morning."

"I didn't-

"Don't lie to me Elliot," she says, cutting him off.

He's about to but decides against it. She'd see through anything he'd tell her anyway.

"It's too bad then. You seemed happy," he offers.

"I was," she responds quietly.

"I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing…just…forget I said anything," she suggests. "And you can stop staring at me like I'm gonna burst into tears because I'm not."

"I'd expect nothing less," he begins. "You're obviously colder and rougher around the edges than I remember."

Olivia eyes him for a moment before deciding she doesn't want to get into another argument. It's too damned early and her head is already hurting from the last one plus the booze from last night. She leans forward to root around in the glove box for the aspirin he usually keeps there.

Knowing her as well as he does, he pops the center console and hands her the bottle.

"Thanks," she mumbles, popping two with her now cold coffee.

The rest of the ride is silent as they follow two state cars to Curtner's place. Once they arrive two of the troopers take the larger house to search. Elliot, Olivia and another set of troopers make their way behind that property to the one they were held in.

They let the troopers search the upper level, going on a hunch that everything they're looking for is in the basement.

The detectives descend the stairs and turn on the overhead florescent shop lights. As they buzz then flicker on, they know the hunch has paid off.

Curtner was apparently made to relieve himself there because of the strong stench of stale urine. One of the pillars in the basement has dried droplets of blood on it. There are two more sets of zip ties no doubt used to bind him at his ankles and wrists.

Melinda's preliminary report showed bruising to his knees so he was more than likely made to kneel. That position in and of itself after a time, is torture enough.

They notice more droplets of blood on the surrounding floor as they continue to look around. Olivia finds his torn, dirty clothing thrown into a corner.

"I'm pretty sure this is the primary crime scene," she comments, toeing the pile.

She notices that Elliot hasn't said a word since they entered the basement. He's staring at the other pillar, the one _she_ was tied to.

"Elliot," she says, putting on a pair of latex gloves.

"What?"

"You okay?" she asks, pausing in her actions.

"Um…yeah…yeah fine," he says, shaking his head as if to dislodge his thoughts. He was right back there with Curtner having to watch him assault his partner.

Olivia knows where his mind went because hers went to the same place. She remembers anger, then fear, then desperation as she nearly dislocated her shoulder trying to get free from the psychopath's bindings.

"At least there aren't any wolves this time right?" She asks, squatting down next to the pile of clothing.

"Right…yeah," he answers, managing a small smile.

Times like these are when he misses her the most. He doubts his new partner would've known that such a simple question would return his focus.

Olivia sifts through Curtner's clothes, examining a jacket first. She notices two small burn holes, no doubt from the stun gun used to subdue him. She moves on to his pants as Elliot looks for evidence in other areas of the basement. In going through the pockets she comes across Natalie Tripp's Hudson University school I.D.

"Look what I found," she tells him, getting his attention.

He walks over to her as she stands up.

"I guess we know where we're going next."

As Olivia gets on the phone to call CSU to process the scene, Elliot notices that one of the hammers likely used to crush the serial rapist's fingers is lying on the woodworker's bench. He puts on gloves before bagging it along with several other tools that have been left out instead of being replaced on their hooks.

Unfortunately he misses a key detail in the bench.

**-VIII-**

Olivia decides to drive back when it's time for them to leave. Her theory is if she's focused on the road and the case, it'll help get the mental picture of Michael screwing another woman out of her mind's eye. She was only with him for seven months but she cared about him deeply. She's half hurt and half pissed for not acting on her gut feeling that something was up. He was just too…_perfect_.

And those accusations he made regarding her former partner. She's still hung up on him? She wasn't emotionally there for Michael because of it? Had one foot in and one foot out of the relationship? What kind of Dr. Phil bullshit was that?

Hopefully Michael still isn't the gossipy type. The world doesn't need to know she had sex with Elliot last night, even if her ex has no proof of it. People who listen to that type of garbage don't exactly ask for sworn affidavits or physical evidence.

Speaking of which, she still feels it in the ache between her legs, sees it in the bruises she has on her hips and the bite mark he left on her left breast. Eye contact has been difficult with him today. And damn MAC for not making better concealer.

Olivia _wanted_ things with Michael to work out. At least that's what she's telling herself. Short of having his name tattooed on her left butt cheek, she was definitely invested in the relationship. But with the intense, animalistic way she and Elliot went at each other last night, she's not altogether certain.

Perhaps Michael came into her life at a convenient enough time not to have to face her feelings for Elliot. But just because she wasn't Chatty Kathy blubbering all over his shoulder every night, doesn't mean she wasn't _in _the relationship. Apparently to Michael it did. Well screw him then.

"Screw who?" Elliot asks, pulling her from her thoughts.

That last part she must've said out loud.

"Nobody," she lies.

"Right," he says. "You should loosen your grip on the steering wheel if you want me to believe that."

She can feel him eying her even from behind his sunglasses. After a few moments he refocuses on looking over the case files on Curtner.

"Listen Elliot. About last night…," she tries, unable to find the words.

The sex they had was not exactly something they've done with one another in the past. She's not sorry it happened but it's something they need to discuss.

"I was-

"Hurt, angry and using me to get revenge on Michael," he interrupts.

Her neck momentarily snaps in his direction before she has to refocus on the road or drive into oncoming traffic.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"You guess so? I have the scratches on my back and the bite mark on my shoulder to prove it."

"You gave as well as you got Elliot. Are you complaining now or trying to make me feel guilty?"

"Look, I wasn't trying to make you feel bad. You needed someone last night and I understood."

"Yeah but I shouldn't have gone to _you_ for that."

"You should've taken some stranger home instead?"

"No. And you know I know better, so screw you."

"Yeah…I do," he says, apologetically. "But I'm not sorry you came to me."

"How can you say that after the way our partnership ended?"

"Contrary to what you may think, just because you hurt me doesn't mean I want you to hurt."

Olivia looks at him disbelievingly.

"In my experience that's exactly what it means Elliot. How could you not?"

He closes the folder that he's been looking through, takes off his sunglasses and gives her his undivided attention.

"Did it hurt when you started dating Michael? Yeah," he begins. "Was it gut wrenching watching you be happy with someone else? Of course," he continues. "And did it sting for you not to have said you loved me too? Hell yes," he asserts. "But if I were to add up all the pain you've had in your life already and measured it against the pain you've caused me, it wouldn't even come close Olivia. I think you've had enough."

She's fighting tears by the time he's finished. Elliot left a job he loved and lived for over twenty years so she could keep what happiness she found with Michael. And he held her in his arms all night despite the fact that she used him. No one has ever put her feelings above their own like he has. Yet and still, she hurt him by going to him last night and he's still not as pissed as he would've been in the past. It seems they've both changed.

"It's not your fault I developed feelings for you," he continues. "I tried staying mad because it helped me focus on the job better. But honestly, it takes too much energy."

She wishes he could've been so honest and forthright before Michael came into her life. This kind of directness could've saved them both a lot of time and pain. But now isn't the time to tell him that.

"Okay," she says. "Who are you and what have you done with Elliot Stabler?"

"I saw a therapist that Huang recommended for a little while after the transfer," he answers, donning his sunglasses again. "I learned that talking is less expensive and more productive than breaking things."

"It is," she says, pausing to consider her next statement. "You should know why I came to you last night," she tells him. If he's being so open, then she can too.

"Didn't we just cover that?"

"It wasn't just because I wanted revenge for what Michael did," she says, now realizing the truth for herself as well. "It's because I know I can still trust you.

He removes his sunglasses again to look her in the eyes.

"Then why didn't you stay?"

Olivia doesn't answer immediately as she returns her focus to the road. She doesn't want to tell him that what they did last night was what she'd wanted to do after his farewell party. That she thought having sex with him once would be enough to get him out of her system.

And, how very wrong she was.

She doesn't want to say how when she crawled in bed next to Elliot to sleep, she wanted him to take her all over again. But after goading him into doing her rough, hard and dirty up against his front door, Olivia knew he wouldn't do the same in his bed. Not the way he held her as they slept.

She woke up with him spooned up behind her, arm over her waist, her back nestled into his chest. His legs were intertwined with hers and his breaths were even and warm on the skin of her neck. When she realized how comfortably she always sleeps next to him, first she got scared and then she got the hell out of there.

"I thought…things would've been too…awkward," she says, safely. "And I needed to get home to change before work."

That excuse is about as lame as when she'd said things were too _"complicated_" to talk to him before she left for computer crimes.

"I get it," he says curtly, returning the glasses to his eyes once again. "And don't worry. I won't be stalking you once this case is over."

She knows she's done it again, hurt him…_again_. But at the moment there's nothing she can do about it.

**-VIII-**

They knock on Natalie Tripp's dormitory door and a young Asian woman answers looking annoyed. She's in a HU sweatshirt stained with pizza sauce, yoga pants and wearing two different socks. Her glasses are pushed forward to the tip of her nose and she has two ink pens sticking out of a messy bun of blonde streaked raven black hair.

"Can I help you?" she asks the detectives, sounding as if she'd rather do anything but.

"Yes," answers Elliot. "We're looking for Natalie Tripp. We were told she's assigned to this room."

"_Was_ assigned to this room," says the girl, about to close the door in their faces.

Olivia puts her hand up stopping her.

"Do you have any idea where she's living _now_?"

"Aren't you detectives? Find her yourself," she smarts off. "I have a _lot_ of studying to do."

"Well the sooner you tell us what we wanna know, the sooner we'll be out of your hair," suggests Elliot.

The girl looks between the two of them and then sighs exasperatedly before offering her assistance. She crosses her arms over her chest, leaning against the door frame.

"She left," she informs them. "Her mom came here after she was found and cleared out all her stuff," she adds, opening the door wide enough for them to see that half the room is undecorated and unlived in. "Said something about taking the rest of the semester off for some family time," she concludes, making air quotes with her fingers.

"Was she the type to run off with a boyfriend or be involved in drugs?" asks Olivia.

"Nat?" She questions, before laughing and shaking her head. "That girl was probably still a virgin. Didn't drink, didn't smoke, didn't do any drugs that I saw and kept her head in those science books of hers all the time."

"Science books?"

"Yeah Chemistry, Biology, Anatomy and Physiology," she tells them. "She was Pre-Med and taking honors level courses. Talk about pressure."

"What'd you think happened when she went missing?" asks Elliot.

"That she decided to finally give herself a break and let off some steam somewhere. She was wound kind of tight."

"Thank you. We'll let you get back to your studies now," Elliot says.

As the young girl closes the door, they turn to walk down the hall.

"She could've been the one to kill him El," offers Olivia. "A Pre-Med student gets plenty of practice cutting things open."

"I don't know," he says, hesitantly. "Natalie is 5'5, maybe 100lbs to 115lbs. Curtner was at least 6'2 210lbs," he tells her. "And he was beat to hell. So unless she secretly has a black belt in Karate, she had some help if she's the doer."

"We have to get her to say she was taken by Curtner in the first place before we turn our victim into our primary suspect," advises Olivia. "She could say she was visiting a friend or just lost her school I.D."

"And a serial rapist and murderer just happens to find it?" Elliot asks.

"Well when we find _her_, she can tell us."

**-VIII-**

When they arrive to the small brick house in Queens, they see an SUV in the driveway so hopefully someone's home.

Elliot rings the doorbell and they wait.

A woman that looks to be in her mid to late fifties, Olivia's height but heavier with platinum blonde short hair answers the door.

"Hi I'm Detective Stabler and this is my partner Detective Benson," he says and Olivia has to bite her bottom lip not to smile. "We're looking for Natalie Tripp."

"I'm her mom Janine. What's this about?"

"Do you mind if we come inside?" asks Olivia.

"Sure," she answers, welcoming them into her home.

The two detectives step into the living room but don't sit down.

"We know that Natalie was reported missing last week and we need to find out where she was."

"She's home safe now, so what different does it make?" asks Janine.

"A man was murdered Mrs. Tripp," informs Elliot. "And we found her school I.D. with his belongings."

"Well she must've lost it," she responds, seemingly nervous. "Nat was just hanging out with friends and forgot to check in. I guess I just overreacted in reporting her missing."

"We checked with Hudson and her roommate says she dropped out," Olivia tells her. "Why would she do that?"

"She's always put too much stress on herself and it was getting to her," Janine tells them. "So I told her to take some time off."

"In the middle of a semester?" asks Elliot.

"She's very smart. She can pick up her classes in the summer."

"It's important that we speak with her Mrs. Tripp," advises Olivia. "We need to verify her whereabouts in order to exclude her from the investigation."

"Exclude her?" she asks, shocked. "Natalie's no killer," says Janine. "She's one of the gentlest people you'll ever meet."

"We don't doubt that ma'am," Olivia tells her. "But we still need to rule her out."

"Okay. I'll go and get her."

Mrs. Tripp disappears upstairs to retrieve her daughter. While they're waiting Elliot takes notice of the pictures on the mantle above the fireplace. One shot in particular peaks his interest.

"I wonder who this is," he says to Olivia, showing her the picture as she comes to stand next to him.

The photo is a shot of Natalie a few years ago. When Elliot opens the back of the frame it reads, _"Natalie age 15 with Uncle Reni on Career Day." _It shows the young girl and a man dressed as a paramedic.

"My mom said you want to talk to me," says Natalie, surprising the two detectives. Elliot puts the picture back in its frame before returning it to the mantle.

The beautiful, vibrant, seemingly life loving girl depicted in all the photos has gone. In her place is a young woman with a down turned mouth, sad eyes and a guarded posture.

They both know a victim when they see one.

Her clothes are too big as if she's lost weight she didn't have to spare in the first place. She's wringing her hands and she doesn't make eye contact with Elliot but focuses on Olivia as if he's not in the room. She keeps tugging at the sleeves of her sweater like she's hiding what's underneath.

"Yes we do," Olivia says. "Do you mind if we sit?"

"Okay," the girl says, taking a seat in an armchair as Olivia sits on an adjacent sofa.

Elliot makes a point of remaining at the fireplace, away from the two women so he doesn't intimidate Natalie.

"Your mom says you were with friends the entire time you were gone," begins Olivia in a softened voice. "But we found your I.D. with the possessions of a very bad man."

They both watch and wait for the girl's response. She's stone faced but Olivia is close enough to see that her breathing has picked up.

"I lost it."

Liv opens a folder she's brought with her and retrieves Curtner's driver's license picture. She doesn't want to further traumatize her with a shot from the Coroner's office.

"So you've never seen or met this man before?"

Natalie cradles her face in her hands, adamantly shaking her head in the negative. The detectives instantly notice the red abrasions around both of her wrists, the reason she was tugging at her long sleeves.

"What did he do to you Natalie?" asks Olivia.

"Nothing," she says, standing abruptly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Then let me tell _you_ what happened," Olivia offers. "He stalked you to learn your routine, got close enough to knock you out, then took you some place to-

"Don't say it. Please don't say it," she rasps.

"He was a serial rapist Natalie," Olivia tells her. "He killed three women."

"No, no, no." she repeats, as tears stream down her face.

Liv reaches for her hand to hold and wipes her tears with the other.

"We can help you," she says, squeezing her hand in comfort.

Janine comes into the room to check on them and the girl throws herself into her mother's arms. She stands there rocking her daughter and rubbing her back trying to calm her.

"I think you should leave now," says Mrs. Tripp.

"Your daughter needs counseling and she more than likely was a witness to a murder," advises Elliot. "We need her help."

"First you say you want to rule her out as a killer and now you're telling me you need her help because she may be a witness," reasons Natalie's mother. "The next time you want to talk to my daughter, do it through an attorney," she tells them, petting her daughter's hair. "Now please leave my home."

Elliot and Olivia do as they're told.

"That girl's gonna self destruct if she doesn't get some help soon," comments Olivia as they get back into the squad car. "And now we can't even talk to her to make her see that."

"We can if we have evidence she was there when he was killed," Elliot tells her, starting the car.

"And where are we gonna get this evidence Elliot?"

"From you Olivia," he informs her. "You wiped her tears so you still have her DNA on your hand. Put a glove on and we'll have Melinda swab you."

Olivia smiles as she shakes her head, grabbing a latex glove out of the center console.

"You think she's the one that spit in Curtner's face."

"That's exactly what I think."


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Just one more after this. If you wanna read it, let me know in a review!**

After Olivia gets swabbed in Melinda's lab, they both decide it's time for a lunch break. They grab something quick from a nearby deli before heading back to the 1-3 to eat there.

They sit at their respective computers, booting them up to work while they eat. After about ten minutes of munching, typing and going over old evidence, Olivia believes she's found something.

"El, Curtner was a general contractor right?" she asks, looking over the many files they have on the serial killer.

"Yeah."

"He designed and damned near built that house himself from the foundation up," she continues, picking up the blueprints.

"You think we missed something?"

"Yeah, I do," she tells him getting up to show him the diagram. "See here. This looks like hidden room."

"You wanna go take another look while we're waiting for the DNA to come back?" he asks.

"Let's go."

**-IX-**

CSU is still processing the basement when they make it back to the house. They're dusting for prints, collecting fluids for DNA and tweezing hair and fiber samples from the pole the serial killer was restrained to.

The two detectives automatically exclude the walls leading to the outside of the house. They knock on the inner wall leading to the second floor and come up with nothing. But when they proceed to the wall that the tools and woodworking bench are on, they hear it.

The hollowness.

Elliot looks over the top portion where the tools are, moving them all hoping it will trigger some type of hidden lever. Nothing happens.

On a hunch Olivia begins rooting around in the cabinet. Just inside the lip of the door she feels something.

A button.

She presses it and everyone stops what they're doing after hearing a mechanized sound. The innocuous looking work bench including the rack of tools above it, parts and opens outward revealing a door.

It's solid, well fit into the frame and steel plated. When she tries the knob it's surprisingly unlocked. What lies on the other side of the threshold while seen by them before, is no less disturbing.

It is painted a dark maroon color, no doubt to make any blood spatter less necessary to clean off and harder to see. There are no windows, no means of escape. The other side of the door has been soundproofed and everything about it lets the captured know that there is no point in screaming, no hope of rescue.

The room is small with a queen sized bed taking up most of the space. The antique looking brass head and foot boards have rope and leg irons attached to them. The once crisp white sheets are now stained with a spot of crimson in the center of the mattress.

There's a balled up piece of clothing at the foot of the bed. With gloved hands Olivia picks it up, revealing it to be a trashy version of a nurse's outfit.

After handing it off to a tech to bag and tag, she steps towards a small closet to the left of the bed. Upon opening it Olivia finds modified versions of uniforms for a French maid, a softball player, a cheerleader and other such costumes taking up one side. The opposite half has a whip, nipple clamps, a paddle, a dog collar with leash and various other sadistic looking items she doesn't want to guess the function of.

In one corner of the room is a tripod mounted video camera with a light stand next to it. Adjacent to that is a small desk where a computer sits. The green flashing indicator on the monitor lets them know that it's on but asleep. The screen is black until Elliot moves the mouse with a gloved hand.

When it comes to life they see that every icon on the screen has various pictures of dogs with their breeds tagged to them. And when he double clicks the one marked "_Poodle_", a video begins.

It's of Brenda French, one of Curtner's last known victims. She's in her own off campus apartment bedroom, dressed in _his _soccer uniform. The killer forces her to model it for him before ordering her to strip and get on the bed. They don't need to watch the rest to know what happens.

The year she was taken, she was a goalie at NYU.

"These women were nothing to this bastard," Elliot comments as Olivia steps closer. "He hunted, tortured and killed them like animals."

"Only _he_ was the animal," she tells him. "Son of a bitch even made them drink water out of doggy dish," she adds, pointing to the double sided bowl in a corner.

Elliot tries to figure out a pattern for the icons they see all over the screen. Realizing either there isn't one or that he won't be able to, he randomly clicks another. With Liv looking on, he moves the mouse over the one marked "_Jack Russell Terrier_". Another face they both recognize pops up. She's donning the French maid's uniform found in the small closet.

Cheryl Lipinski.

She worked as a housekeeper for a Holiday Inn at night but was taking veterinarian technician classes in the daytime. It's where her body was discovered during the Day Housekeeper's rounds.

"If every one of these icons is of someone he's killed…" Elliot begins.

"My God El, there's at least twenty-five of them."

**-IX-**

After realizing that the search for James Curtner's killer has led them to more of his victims, they contact Captains Cragen and Kirk to coordinate a more thorough search of the property by local and state police. They get divers into the man-made lake. Cadaver dogs are brought out to search the old Victorian house and the surrounding woods. And ground penetrating radar is used for the basement floor in the log constructed lake home.

They take two days to find twenty-two bodies. His last three murdered victims were killed in their own apartment, home and workplace. The detectives surmise that he knew law enforcement was getting close, so he didn't want to take the chance of transporting the women upstate.

After he knew they assumed he'd fled to Canada, he got comfortable again and snatched Natalie.

It's 6 o'clock in the evening and the sun has nearly set. Elliot is reclined in the passenger's seat, trying to relax during the long drive back.

"How did he know?" she asks, taking a side glance at him. "How did the killer know about the log house?"

"Two missing cops were found in it," he offers. "Maybe we were in the papers."

"No, we weren't," she responds adamantly. "I think this guy's on the job."

"Where do you get that?"

"Unless the perp helped built the place, the only way of knowing where it was, is if he read the fives," she tells him. "Who else could have known?"

"Cragen and the chopper pilot are the ones that discovered the house and found us. So, that rules out the searchers," he concludes. "What about an accomplice?"

"Curtner was a serial sadistic rapist, he didn't like to share. There was no one else in the videos," she reasons. "And the angle didn't change so there was nobody holding the camcorder."

Elliot gets on the radio and has the female dispatcher check for any officers with R. Tripp for a name. She comes up with nothing.

By the time they make it back to the station, Olivia feels defeated. She knows her gut feeling about the perpetrator being a cop is right. She makes a bee line for her computer when she gets another idea.

Elliot sits on his side, resting his elbows on the table with his chin in his hand. He watches as she types away on the computer knowing she's doing her own thorough search of a cop with the same last name as Natalie.

"I've tried every spelling and I still came up empty," she tells him.

"We've been working this for four days Liv," he reasons. "The only thing we've found out is that Curtner was an even more sadistic son of a bitch that we gave him credit for."

"What are you saying? We shouldn't put so much effort into finding his killer?"

"Of course not, but I've been up since very early this morning and I wanna get the hell out of here."

"Your date keep you up all night?"

"I didn't say I was tired," he says, ignoring her question. "I just said I wanted to go home."

"You go ahead," she tells him. "I'm gonna keep at it."

Elliot stretches and gets up as she continues typing away, doing searches. His hand is on the doorknob when something dawns on him.

"We've been assuming that Uncle Reni is Mrs. Tripp's brother in-law," he begins. "Maybe it's her blood brother. Check Janice Tripp's maiden name," he suggests, turning back around.

He looks over her shoulder as she types in the driver's license record.

"It's Keys."

Olivia does a search for Reni Keys in the driver's license database and comes up empty.

"Try Renaldo Keys," he tells her.

When she types in the name, race and approximate age, the DMV records show a photo, address and driving record of one Renaldo Emerson Keys.

"There's Uncle Reni," Olivia says, smiling. "That's good work El, thanks."

"You're welcome."

She begins typing again, this time doing a search for Renaldo Emerson in the personnel database.

"So he's a cop _now_," begins Elliot. "But he was a paramedic four years ago which means he has enough medical knowledge to have made those cuts to Curtner's body."

"If we're right, we have to be delicate about this," she tells him. "Accusing a cop of murder, even the murder of someone who deserved it as much as Curtner, is gonna ruffle some feathers."

"I know. I remember how ruffled _my_ feathers got when they accused you of killing that biker," he reminds her, sitting on the table next to her. "I'm just glad Melinda figured things out when she did."

"Me too," she says, logging off her computer before standing up. "I still can't believe you put up your house for me."

"There was no risk involved," he asserts, shrugging his shoulders. "I knew you didn't kill him."

Elliot's faith in her has always been touching in a way no one else's has been. _'And look how great you turned out.'_

"For awhile there, you and I were the only ones that didn't think so," she tells him, following him out to wait on an elevator. "Even Munch was starting to waiver."

"Yeah well, it just goes to show how much more diligent we have to be with the evidence when we go after Keys," he begins. "We can't just rely on DNA."

She nods in agreement as the elevator doors close behind them. As they're descending towards the lobby, the elevator stops abruptly knocking the detectives into one another.

**-IX-**

"Son of a bitch," says Elliot after they right themselves.

"Not this again," Olivia comments, echoing his sentiment.

He steps up to press the intercom button, hoping for a swift and successful solution to getting the metal box on a string moving again.

"Hello," says a male voice on the speaker.

"This is Detective Stabler in Homicide. My partner and I are stuck," he begins. "Can you get us going?"

"Sorry to tell you this but it might be a bit before we can get you out. A prisoner escaped so the chief ordered the precinct locked down until we recover him."

"Can't you just verify who we are and let _us_ go?"

"We will but we can't right away," he informs the detective. "Once we hit the override, the fire department has to reset the emergency panel for all four elevators. We should get the all clear in maybe ten minutes or so."

Elliot exhales, dejectedly shaking his head.

"Fine, but please get us going as soon as possible."

"Will do."

Olivia has already resolved herself to the fact that they aren't going anywhere any time soon. She's sitting on the carpeted floor up against the back of the elevator, hands in her lap, purse close by. He doesn't hesitate to sit down next to her, resting his head on the wall behind him.

"You must be bad luck," he says, looking at her out of the corner of his eye without moving his head. "I've been here for months and I've never been stuck in this thing. You've been here a few days and we've been stuck twice."

"Seeing as though we haven't plummeted to our deaths," she begins. "I'd say I was _good_ luck."

"Maybe."

After a few minutes of silence waiting on the fire department to set them free, a noise disturbs the quiet.

"I think your ass is vibrating," Elliot tells her.

She leans away from him, pulling her cell out of her back pocket. When she takes a look at the screen to see who's calling, Elliot sees a look of disgust mar her otherwise beautiful features.

"Aren't you gonna get that?"

"Nope."

"He must be at the begging stage."

"Excuse me?" Olivia asks, turning towards Elliot.

"Michael. He must be at the begging stage."

"Okay, I'll bite. What are you talking about?"

"There are seven stages to a break up just as there are in grief. Shrinks call it bargaining, I call it begging because that's what people do."

"Oh, this I gotta hear," she tells him, smirking.

"There's shock, denial, isolation," he begins, counting on his fingers. "Anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance."

"Wow. Somebody's had too much couch time."

"Not everyone hits all of them," he continues, ignoring her jab. "And some people skip a few."

"And where do I fall Dr. Stabler?"

"If you're gonna keep making fun of me, I'm not gonna share with you," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Olivia rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"Okay Elliot. Please clue me in on your vast knowledge of psychology."

"Despite your tone, I'll tell you anyway," he starts, uncrossing his arms again. "But these stages don't really apply to the person who did the dumping as much as the one who got dumped."

"Really?"

"You've obviously been through anger and maybe some sadness but I think this case has been enough of a distraction, so that it hasn't hit you as hard."

Olivia takes a deep breath and exhales.

"It's hit me hard enough and it's not this case that distracted me," she rasps. "You should know since you were there when it happened. And yeah I'm still angry," she continues in a stronger voice. "But I won't be falling into a depression and he isn't worth my tears."

"I'm sorry," he says, laying a hand over both those she holds in her lap.

"_You_ haven't done anything to apologize for," she returns, turning to face him.

Elliot mimics her position, giving her his full attention as he moves his hand to lay it against her face.

"I do," he says, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

Olivia closes her eyes momentarily at the motion.

"Why?" she manages, her eyes never leaving his.

"I knew I was falling in love with you and instead of doing something about it, I fought against it, tried to ignore it and that made room for someone like Michael to hurt you," he explains, leaning his forehead against hers.

"El…"

"I can't help it," he warns.

Before Elliot can stop himself, his lips are on hers. His other hand joins the first to cradle her face. She turns in to him more, laying one hand on his chest and holding his forearm with the other.

When she doesn't pull back or stop him, he steals into her mouth to taste her. Elliot kisses her slowly and tenderly. It's a complete departure from the aggression she coaxed out of him several nights ago. And though it was what she wanted at the time, Olivia definitely prefers this languid perusal of her mouth.

When he feels the elevator moving again, he makes himself stop.

"Shit," he says, finally pulling back.

Olivia watches as he darts out his tongue to soothe the lip she bit last night. She reaches up with her thumb, rubbing it gingerly.

"Sorry," she tells him, leaning in to place a short kiss over the boo boo she caused.

"Apology unnecessary," he responds. "But you just broke up with your boyfriend of seven months on Monday and it's only Thursday. I shouldn't have kissed you in the first place."

They both stand as the elevator continues to descend into the lobby of the precinct.

"Well I didn't exactly protest," she offers. "And I wasn't thinking of _him_ when we were having sex," she points out. "So I'd say I'm well on my way to the acceptance stage."

"I'm glad but I still shouldn't have done it," he says, stepping out into the lobby. "I don't wanna be your rebound."

Once again he says something that so totally surprises her that she's left standing in shock. By the time her mind catches up he's out the doors of the precinct and she has to jog to reach him before he leaves.

"El wait," she says, meeting him at his car.

He has the driver's side door open but doesn't get in, instead eying her over the roof.

"We have a case to close Olivia. And this seems like a conversation we should wait to have without interruption or distraction," he reasons.

She knows his logic is sound. They'll have to have an early start tomorrow after all the evidence is cataloged, sifted through and processed. They need to make sure their case against Renaldo Keys is air tight before they sit down and talk to him. But she doesn't want Elliot thinking he's ever been so insignificant to her that he'd be a rebound.

"That's fine," she tells him.

He watches as she comes around the car to stand before him.

"And we will," she begins. "But I need you to know that I wouldn't use you like that."

"You already have," he retorts.

"That's not…I didn't mean to," she tries, scrubbing a frustrated hand over her face. "Shit."

"It's okay," he tells her. "I'm a big boy. I can handle it."

"When we close this case, I'm going to sit you down and tell you everything I should've told you at least a year ago," she says, taking a step closer. "But please, just know that being with you the other night, coming to you, was not just about Michael," she adds low enough for only him to hear.

He recognizes the sincerity in her voice, sees it in her eyes so he has no choice but to believe what she's telling him. He just hopes that it's for the reason he thinks and not just out of pity. He nods his understanding.

Olivia wants to kiss him again or simply touch him but it's the end of the day and there are too many people around. Though it's only been four days since the break up, she now realizes how right Michael was. She _did_ only have one foot in that relationship and Elliot's the reason.

"Are you picking me up tomorrow?" she asks.

"I'll be there."

**-IX-**

While CSU is nowhere close to finishing the volume of evidence they have to process. They did manage to gather what Elliot and Olivia need to get a confession out of Renaldo Keys.

They're told by his desk sergeant that it's his off day and he's more than likely at his house in Queens. The idea is to talk him into going in with them. They don't want anyone to alert him so that he rabbits or gets rid of evidence, not that they need any more.

They ring the doorbell of the small white framed house and a petite red haired woman in her late twenties answers. She's wearing hiking boots, dark brown cargo pants and a khaki colored jacket with the Bronx Zoo logo on one side and '_Lisa_' embroidered on the other.

No doubt she's their suspect's connection to the exotic and deadly snake.

"Yes?" she says, putting on her belt.

"I'm Detective Benson and this is my partner Detective Stabler. Is Officer Keys home?"

"Um, yeah he's out back in his little sanctuary or what normal people call a garage," she tells them, now that she's finished dressing. "I'm actually on my way to work but you guys can go ahead."

They thank her and walk around to the back of the house. On the way they pass a burnt orange '68 Camaro in restored condition. Elliot drags his feet looking at it.

"I thought you were passed the midlife crisis stage," comments Olivia.

"I'm just looking," he says, smiling.

The large, wide garage door is down but there's a smaller entry door and it's already open.

It's the most meticulously clean garage either of them has ever laid eyes on. The biggest reason is the fact that the car's not in it. Secondly though, is that it's more of a man cave than a place to keep your vehicle from the elements.

The floor has indoor/outdoor carpeting. There's a large LCD television attached to the left wall and a sofa in front of it. Below the TV is a multimedia cabinet and to either side of that are retro popcorn and soda machines. The right side of the space has a wet bar with stools in front of it and portraits of various family and friends on the wall above it. But what really draws their attention is the back wall.

A shelf system akin to what you may find in a pet shop lines the wall. Various species of snakes and lizards are housed in each of the twelve different tanks.

The man with his back to them is at least 6'2, solidly and muscularly built weighing at least 225lbs. He appears to be looking for something in each of the tanks.

"Officer Keys?"

"Yeah," he answers turning around. "Who wants to know?"

"I'm Benson, he's Stabler," Olivia tells him.

"Whatever it is you want, now isn't a good time for me," he says, continuing to look. "One of my little friends has gotten loose and I need to find him."

"That wouldn't happen to be a Black Mamba would it?" asks Elliot.

"Those are illegal in this country detective," he says immediately, stopping long enough to look Elliot in the eye before continuing his search.

"We want to talk to you about your niece Officer Keys," advises Olivia.

"What about her?" the man asks, pausing again. "She's okay right?"

"Yes," she answers. "But she needs to get help for what happened to her while she was missing."

Officer Keys freezes at the mentioning of Natalie Tripp but continues the search for his lost pet.

"She was just hanging out with some friends," he offers, nearly verbatim of what Janice Tripp told them. "She's at home with her mom. She's fine."

"We think-Ow!" says Elliot, shortly before falling to his knees.

The snake the man was looking for slithers off of his shoe and into a corner. Officer Keys sees this and gathers the reptile.

"Elliot!"

Olivia draws her weapon, pointing it at the man.

"You set it free didn't you?"

"They'll need to know that it's an Inland Taipan," he tells her, backing towards the garage door. "You have about forty-five minutes to get your partner to a hospital if you don't want to watch him die an agonizing death."

Elliot is on his back now with his face screwed up in pain. He's grasping at his leg and making short, quick breaths.

"Put the snake in that beer bucket and get on your knees!"

"I don't think so Benson," he says, continuing to back out of the garage door. "You can arrest me or you can save your partner but you can't do both."

Olivia re-holsters her weapon and runs to Elliot's side as Keys make his exit. She gets out her cell to call for an ambulance and to put out an APB on him. Then she sits down on the floor next to her partner, pulling his head into her lap.

"Hold on baby," she says, after hanging up with the dispatcher. "They'll be here soon, just hold on."

**Okay, you know what I want so just give it to me why don't you? No idea? Review please!**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Well folks. This is it. The final chapter in my final story for a good while. Full time job and a hectic school schedule don't mix well with this type of "obsessive over the details" writing I've tried to do. I believe writing about my two favorite "would be" lovers has been great for honing my skills. I thank all those that have ever read and especially reviewed any of my works. You don't know how invaluable those are to a writer whether they are positive or negative. **

**As I do love SVU and writing in general, I hope to someday come back to it. But until then, enjoy this last bit of E/O goodness and wish me well in nursing school. Until we interact again, please feel free to read or reread anything else I've written.**

**Sincerely, **

**Poetif**

There's a beeping sound coming from the machine monitoring his vital signs. It's the first thing he hears upon waking in the stark bright light of the hospital room.

He squints at the assault on his vision.

The snake bite has been cared for with a bandage he feels around his ankle. There are leads from a heart monitor stuck to his chest, a pulse-oxygen clasp is attached to his right index finger, an I.V. is in his left arm and an oxygen mask covers his face.

But Elliot is alive.

He takes it upon himself to remove the mask as he opens his eyes fully. The faint smell of her shampoo wafts up his nose waking him completely. He smiles when he looks to his left, seeing Olivia with her head lying next to his arm. Her face is turned towards him as if she was watching him sleep before falling victim to her own exhaustion.

He pauses a moment to simply take her in. Her lips are slightly parted in slumber, breaths coming deep and evenly. She looks peaceful this way he thinks and always has.

It isn't the first time he's watched Olivia sleep.

Elliot hated having to wake her during long cases. Her dreams had to have been better than whatever caused her to have to drag herself to the cribs for a few winks instead of to her own comfortable bed. But she never complained.

He reaches down to push stray hairs out of her face, threading his fingers through her soft locks.

"Hey," she says, opening her eyes and sitting up.

He pulls his hand away, clasping them both on top of his stomach.

"Hey," he rasps in an unused voice.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, blinking away the sleep from her eyes, stretching.

"I'm okay," he tells her. "Any word on Keys?"

"Yeah," she answers. "The New Jersey State Troopers caught him fueling up at a gas station. His car isn't exactly inconspicuous. They brought him in without incident and he's at the 1-3 sitting in a holding cell. Hasn't bother asking for his union rep either."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"He's not going anywhere," she points out. "Besides. I wanted to make sure you weren't gonna die on me," she adds, standing to leave.

He's close enough to her to reach for and grab her hand, stopping her from walking away. Olivia looks down at his thumb, watching him caress the knuckles of her hand. Then she looks over at him as he gives her a devious smile.

"Did I here you call me baby while we were waiting for the ambulance?"

Olivia rolls her eyes at his cockiness.

"Don't get too big a head," she advises. "I said the same thing to Fin when he got shot in that bodega robbery.

"And I thought I was special," he says, letting go of her hand.

Olivia leans over him, placing her hands on either side of his head. She bends down and places her lips on his, softly and sweetly before standing again.

"You are," she assures him. "And we're gonna have that conversation real soon El," she adds, gathering her purse. "I'll see you later."

"Go get him Liv."

She simply smiles, nods and leaves.

**-X-**

Renaldo Keys is waiting for Olivia in the interrogation room when she enters. He's handcuffed to a metal loop, unable to stand or move beyond the table.

She walks in with the substantial evidence in a manila folder and sits down across from him.

"I didn't set Molly free to bite one of you guys," he says immediately. "I wouldn't do that," he adds adamantly sounding sincere.

"I believe you Keys," she tells him. "But the result's the same. My partner almost died today because of you."

"I'm sorry," he tells her.

"If you're so sorry, why'd you run?"

"For the same reason anyone runs detective. I didn't wanna go to jail."

"Then you shouldn't have killed James Curtner."

"Never heard of him," he says, attempting to lean back in his chair but not getting very far.

"I think you have Renaldo," she says. "I think when your sister told you that Natalie had gone missing that you put his M.O. in the system and came across our case."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he denies. "Natalie was just with some friends and-and forgot to check in," he repeats nervously. "That's all!" he yells, slamming both fists on the table.

"They found the video he made of her on his computer," Olivia informs him. "She was raped repeatedly."

"No!"

"You thought you'd erased it," she continues more sympathetically. "But T.A.R.U was able to recover it along with over twenty others. Anyone would understand why you killed him."

Olivia watches him clenching and unclenching his fists on the table when she notices the bruising to his hands.

"You beat him and he still wouldn't give it up," she begins. "So you used the snake."

"I…wasn't there," he stutters out. "It wasn't me."

Olivia opens the file folder she's brought into the room with her. She stands up, walking around to sit on the table next to him.

"Your fingerprints were found on the mouse inside of Curtner's hidden room and on the hammer used to crush his fingers," she says, showing him the picture of the match.

He directs his focus onto his hands and doesn't respond so she continues.

"Natalie's blood was found on these sheets, on the nurse's uniform he forced her to wear," she tells him, showing him the pictures from the crime scene. "And her DNA matched the saliva we found on his face at the tow yard."

Renaldo takes a cleansing breath before meeting her eyes.

"My brother in-law was a cop. He was killed five years ago in a liquor store robbery," he informs her. "He forgot to get wine for his date night with Janine so he just stopped into a corner bodega."

Tears have formed in the man's eyes and she can't say she doesn't feel for him. But she has a job to do.

"You see I'm not just her Uncle Reni," he says, as tears stream down his face. "I'm her godfather and I _promised_ to take care of her Detective Benson," he informs her, taking a pause. "He had her…for two days of hell."

"She needs help Renaldo," Olivia advises him. "She's not gonna make it without counseling."

"If you let me talk to her, I'll make sure she agrees to it," he asserts. "Just keep her out of this."

Olivia gets up, gathering all the pages and pictures back into the folder. She heads towards the door preparing to leave when she stops and turns to him.

"You know Renaldo," she begins. "We uncovered the bodies of twenty-two different women on his property. He was cold, sadistic and cruel, the embodiment of evil. If I was a prosecutor, I'd seriously worry about finding a jury that would convict you."

"Thanks Benson."

"Good luck Keys," she says, leaving him to his thoughts.

**-X-**

Elliot's sleeping soundly when she goes to tell him about closing the case. So she kisses him on the forehead and leaves with plans of surprising him with bagels and coffee the next morning.

The following day after showering, putting on her clothes and doing her hair and makeup, she grabs her purse, coat and scarf preparing to head over to Queens Memorial. But when she opens her front door, Elliot is standing there in his coat, boots, jeans and Jets sweatshirt about to knock.

"Hey," he says, hand in mid air before putting it down.

"Hey," she says, smiling and stepping back to let him in.

Olivia takes his coat and hers, putting them in a closet. She sits her purse down on a nearby table and Elliot follows her into the living room to sit on the sofa.

"So did you break out or did they actually say you were medically cleared to leave?" She asks, looking him over.

He chuckles a bit before answering.

"Medically cleared and venom free," he tells her. "Thanks to you."

"Told you I was good luck," she says, winking. "I was actually on my way to come and see you."

"Well you know how much I hate hospitals," he tells her, looking around her apartment for the first time since arriving.

There are at least five different bouquets of her favorite flowers sitting on her breakfast bar. Various others are scattered throughout her apartment along with stuffed toys and boxes of chocolate.

"Wow," he says standing and putting his hands on his hips. "He must want you back really bad," he adds. "I mean…look at all this," he tells her, gesturing at the haul of various gifts.

Elliot walks over to her window, smelling a bouquet of lilacs. She knows he's probably jealous and feels threatened.

"I guess so," she comments. "But the important thing is…that _I_ don't want _him_."

"You don't?"

Olivia meets him at the window, takes his hand and guides him back to her sofa.

"I think it's time for that talk," she says, taking a corner of the sofa and folding one leg beneath her. "No interruptions, no distractions."

"Ladies first," he says, sitting wide legged in the middle of the couch.

Olivia raises her eyebrows then shakes her head. Of course she should go first. He's been completely open about his feelings and she's given him nothing but reason to doubt her intentions.

"First of all, I'm done with Michael. He could fill this apartment with flowers, send me one of those little blue boxes from Tiffany's, buy me ten pair of boots and I'd still be through with him," she asserts. "None of that would make me forgive and forget."

"Okay, I believe you."

"That's good because having you back in my life this last week has forced me to figure some things out," she reveals.

"What things?"

"Like why I was with Michael in the first place."

"He was handsome, rich, successful and a seemingly good guy," he offers. "I get it."

"No…you don't," she says, rubbing her forehead. "I gave him a chance because I didn't think…that you and I…that _we'd _work out."

He laughs humorlessly at this revelation.

"Why not?"

"The way we fight for one. And also I was too worried about people thinking we'd been having an affair all along," she tells him.

"Why the hell would you care what people at work thought?" he asks. "They've been talking about us for years."

"Not them," she rasps. "Your kids El. I was worried about how they'd handle it after your divorce."

"How noble," he says, sarcastically.

"What's the tone about Elliot?" she asks. "You didn't even touch me until Curtner gave you a concussion."

"It's not because I didn't want to," he nearly whispers.

"Then why didn't you?"

"You weren't the only one worried okay," he confesses. "I didn't want to hurt you or chance ruining what we already had, losing my partner, my best friend."

"We've hurt each other Elliot and it seems that what we had got ruined anyway trying to avoid it," she concludes. "Then Michael came along….he was like the rebound for a relationship that I didn't even get to have."

"Seven months is a long assed rebound Olivia," he says, disbelievingly.

"I know," she admits. "I'm not gonna lie to you. Up until a few days ago he was good to me, _for_ me. I'd started to really care about Michael, started to see a life with him."

Elliot stands abruptly, walking into her kitchen. He doesn't want to hear about Michael's potential. He places both hands on her counter, taking slow breaths to calm down.

"You should just forgive him then," he says with his back to her. "I'm sure he'd come running."

"No," she tells him. "Beside's being a cheating bastard, he has one other major thing going against him," she says, coming to stand behind him. "He's not _you_ El."

His shoulders relax but he remains facing away from her.

"You left a job you were great at, a place you made a difference, all so I could have a chance with him," she begins. "No one has ever done anything like that for me, put my needs ahead of theirs like that, and been so selfless."

She chances laying a hand at his waist and he doesn't flinch or move away from her.

"But we had our own issues Elliot," she reminds him. "You always took me for granted until some other guy came sniffing around. You should've said someth-

"I said…_everything_," he interrupts. "But you're right. It shouldn't have taken too many blows to the head to get my head out of my ass," he says, taking a deep breath before exhaling.

"You said your regret was not fighting for me but I have one too Elliot," she contends. "I regret just running off after you told me how you feel," she says. "I regret lying and saying it would pass…because…it never has for me."

He reaches back to place a hand over the one she has at his waist. He pulls her right arm around him and she doesn't hesitate to join it with her left. They stand that way for a moment, her giving him comfort in knowing that he's not alone in his feelings.

Elliot brings her hands up to his mouth to kiss them before finally turning to face her.

"Hi," he says, smiling.

"Hi," she answers before capturing his lips.

Olivia sucks on his bottom lip, soothing the bite from earlier. She traces his top lip with her tongue before he opens his mouth to her. She loves kissing him, how he tastes, how she has trouble stopping once they've begun.

They're near her kitchen making out like a couple of teenagers before they have to break apart to breathe.

"So you're officially done at the 1-3," he points out.

"Yes I am despite the fact that Captain Kirk wants to adopt me," she tells him, grinning. "We're officially done being partners…_again_."

"Good," he tells her. "What do you want to do today?"

"Well…I have some ideas."

Olivia tugs at his sweatshirt as he leans his back against her counter. Elliot watches as she pulls his belt out of the loops, throwing it to the floor. She lifts his shirt to smooth her hands up his torso and back down again.

"Take this off."

Elliot strips the sweatshirt and the tank underneath off in one fell swoop, tossing them in the direction of his belt. He steps out of his shoes, leaning both elbows against the counter behind him to wait for her next move.

She tenderly touches the bite mark she left on his shoulder.

"Turn around."

When he does as she asks, Olivia has a short intake of breath in seeing the evidence of her aggression. Just as she did with the bite mark, she gingerly touches the angry looking scratches she's left.

She steps closer to him and begins placing feather light kisses over every red streak she sees. Elliot turns to face her again after a few moments and instantly notices the regret in her face.

"I'm sorry," she says in a near whisper.

"Like you said," he tells her, unbuttoning her blouse. "I gave as well as I got."

Once her shirt is open, he sees the bite mark he's left on her breast. He bends to place an open mouthed kiss to it.

"Where else is sore?" he asks.

She takes his hand, leading him into her bouquet free bedroom. They stop at the foot of her bed once inside.

Olivia moves to take her belt off when he places his hands over hers.

"Let me."

She puts her hands on his shoulders as Elliot pulls the belt off of her, tossing it aside. He looks into her eyes as if to ask permission when his fingers go to the button of her slacks.

She toes off her boots before nodding in the affirmative.

Elliot unbuttons her pants, lowers her zipper and gravity helps them fall to the floor. When she steps out of them he notices the bruises covering her hips. He threads his eyebrows together, shaking his head.

"I didn't realize-

"I wanted it like that El," she says, placing her hand on his cheek. "And I don't regret it."

Elliot nods his understanding then lowers himself to get on his knees before her. He moves his hands up her legs with a feather light stroke, reverently touching her bruises. Then he leans in, kissing the multicolored markings until he reaches her belly button.

"Get on the bed," he tells her.

Olivia backs up to the middle of the bed, sitting up on her elbows with one leg bent at the knee.

"Anywhere else?" he asks, now standing at the foot of the bed.

"El you don't have to-

"I want to. So…where else?"

She sees the fire and determination in his eyes knowing he won't stop until he makes amends for something she asked for. Catholic guilt. Penance. Her eyes dip below her panty line then back up to his.

Elliot crawls towards her, running his hands up the outside of her thighs until they reach the material of her bikini briefs. He pulls them down until she has to lift up to help take them off. Once they're cast aside he refocuses his attention.

When he returns his hands to her legs again, Olivia modestly puts her knees together. He tenderly kisses one kneecap and then the other.

"Let me," he says, meeting her eyes again.

Placing his hands on both knees, he slowly pulls them apart. He lays one hand against her stomach, coaxing her to lay back. She knows they've already had sex and shouldn't be so nervous but the way he's being with her, the tenderness…this isn't just sex.

Olivia feels the stubble from his five o'clock shadow against the inside of her thigh. He seems to be momentarily resting there to get her to relax. Elliot continues, placing warm open mouthed kisses against her skin until reaching his intended destination.

He starts slow, just lapping at her with a warm tongue. When he feels the tension in her leg muscles leave he picks up the pace.

Her breaths quicken and she begins moaning with the attention he's lavishing on her. She feels the excitement building in her core and she knows she's close. When he latches on and begins sucking the most intimate parts of her, she loses it squeezing her eyes shut as fireworks explode behind her eyelids.

After coming back to herself she opens her eyes seeing him smiling up at her from between her legs. The sight is almost more than she can handle.

"Better?"

The ability to speak has yet to return so she simply nods as her breathing evens out. He crawls up and over her body, stopping when his mouth is next to her ear.

"You can always have it any way you want it with me," he whispers as he strokes her side.

Olivia turns to kiss him, placing a hand against his face. When he feels her pushing his jeans down he lifts up to help, taking his boxer briefs with them. He rolls off to face her and they lay side by side.

Elliot threads his fingers through her hair, staring into her eyes, simply enjoying the moment.

"You're beautiful Liv," he whispers, nuzzling his nose with hers.

She smiles in response as she lays her hand against his heart, feeling it beating beneath her fingers. He apparently is just as nervous. But neither will rush things.

_This_ is making love, Olivia thinks.

Olivia reaches behind to unclasp her bra before tossing it aside. Elliot leans down to place another reverent kiss to the mark he's left. With the tips of his fingers he maps her from the soft skin of her collar bone, down her stomach, over her back and everywhere he didn't get to touch during their hasty first time when he discovers it.

"When did you get this?" he asks, tenderly stroking the skin low on her hip with his thumb. It's small and he didn't notice it because of the bruising, but it's there. A little four leaf clover.

"Um…after you left," she responds, hesitantly. "When Michael asked what it meant, I lied and told him I got it because cops need all the luck we can get."

"And the truth…"

"It reminded me of you," she says, rubbing at his lower lip with her thumb.

Now he seems almost entranced by the little green plant inked on her tanned skin.

"I have one too," he tells her.

Olivia smiles, piercing her brows together.

"You have a four leaf clover? Well you are Irish-

"No," he interjects. "Not that."

Elliot picks up her hand, moving it over his left hip. She looks down now noticing a colorful Celtic sunburst with two wavy lines in the middle denoting the sign of an Aquarius. In running his ex-wife and children's birth dates through her head, she can't remember any of them being born under the sign.

But _she_ was.

"When?" she asks, rubbing a thumb over the design.

"Two weeks before I left SVU," he answers.

"What's it mean?" she questions, not wanting to be presumptuous.

"Sunshine is what I called you when I had to wake you up or interrupt your day off," he begins. "And the wavy lines are your astrological sign," he answers. "It's not like I was gonna forget you but-

"I get it," she interrupts. "I wanted to carry a piece of you around with me too."

She raises her hand to his chest again and begins to explore him, lightly scraping her nails over the small dusting of hair he has on his torso. Olivia touches the tattoo he got in her honor, grinning as she runs her fingers over it again. She then continues down further, wrapping her hand around him, seeing what she only got to feel inside her before.

"You're beautiful too," she says, when her eyes meet his again.

Olivia begins stroking him slowly, watching his eyes close as he gets caught up in the sensation. She kisses him at the same pace, sliding her tongue against his as she continues her ministrations until he stops her.

Elliot reaches for the hand she's using to put it over his shoulder. Then he takes her leg, pulling it over his thigh. She bends her leg further, moving it higher so that she's completely open to him.

He smoothes his hand over her ass before slipping partway in. Elliot rubs his hand up and down the contours of her spine without moving any further.

"Any way you want it Liv," he repeats in a whisper against her lips. It's a stark contrast to his near threat when he had her against his front door.

Olivia wraps her arms around his neck and then uses her foot to pull him into her completely. They pause like it's their first time together, wanting to savor the moment. Elliot moves first, then so does she. With every arch of her back and hinging of his hips, they moan at the wonderful pleasure of it all.

She pushes him to lie on his back, continuing to roll her hips. Elliot threads his hands in her sweat dampened hair as she shifts over him. She bends to kiss him as she moves, feeling him smiling against her lips. Olivia's breasts rub against what little chest hair he has, creating just the right amount of friction.

He switches things up, smoothing his hands over her ass before flipping her so that he's on top now. He darts out his tongue to tease an erect nipple before taking it into his mouth and running his tongue over it. Olivia pulls his head up to kiss him again, hungrily and sensuously as if unable to get enough. She's gotten greedy where he's concerned.

Elliot smoothes his hands from her biceps to her fingertips, intertwining them with his as he puts her arms above her head. He feels her soothing the bite mark she left on his shoulder with her mouth.

He moves languidly but purposefully, relishing in the feeling that he can take his time now, he thinks. It's not about him having side effects of a concussion. It isn't about goodbyes. And it for damned sure is not about being a spurned lover. This is about _them_.

With Michael, she always wanted to be on top and he often let her. Olivia happily let's Elliot be the dominant one. She's spread out before him, arms above her head, fingers clasped together with his absolutely loving the surrender of her body to him. It's the trust she was missing, she thinks. And the love.

When he reaches down between them to stroke the sensitive bundle of nerves just below her dark curls she explodes again, arching up against his chest. In feeling her pulsing all around him, he's not long to follow collapsing from the power of his own release.

She strokes his short hair as he lays his head against her chest as they both catch their breaths.

"I gotta say," Olivia begins. "This was way better than the bagels and dark roast I was gonna surprise you with."

She feels the vibration of his laughter against her body and next to making love to him, it just became one of her favorite sensations.

"I completely agree," he tells her. "I just wish I would've thought of it sooner."

She gives him a playful slap to the head.

"What do you mean _you_ thought of it?" she asks. "I'm the one who knocked on your door the first time and I'm the one who started this by undressing you in my kitchen."

He sits up and off to the side of her, bending his arm to rest his chin on his hand.

"Yeah but I'm the one who stopped you from leaving my apartment," he reminds her. "And I did ask what you wanted to do today."

Elliot begins using his index finger to draw lazy patterns all over stomach. She's finding it difficult to argue with him while he's doing that.

"Let's just agree to disagree," she tells him. "I'm just happy we're finally here."

"Are you? Happy?"

Olivia doesn't have to think about it this time.

"Yes," she says, simply. "Neither of us thought we'd work. We thought that ship had sailed and sank with us on it before we even tried," she adds. "As brave and strong as I know we're both capable of being, we chickened out El."

Elliot puts them both beneath the covers as their bodies have chilled from the heat they created. She lies against his chest with her hand on his stomach.

"We were partners for twelve years Liv," he says. "Going from that to something more may not have been such an easy transition," he advises. "I think we needed some time, some space and even another person between us to know how it feels when the right person is missing."

Olivia lifts up and kisses his chest, his collar bone and then his lips. She slides her lips against his, nibbling on his lower lip before stealing into his mouth.

"I love you El," she tells him when she pulls back. "And you have to know something."

"What's that?"

"I don't care if your kids scrutinize this relationship, I don't care if the gossip starts flowing from SVU to the 1-3," she tells him. "I want this with you," she declares, voice laden with emotion. "This _is_ everything," she concludes, reminded of a statement from their last night as partners.

He pulls her face towards him, threading his hands through her hair and kissing her this time.

"I love you too," he says after they break apart. "I don't want anything or anyone else coming between us," he continues. "And you have to know something I've realized as well," he adds, running his hand up and down the contours of her back.

"Which is?"

"You are what was missing from my life…_my_ everything. The right one."

"You're not just the right one for me El," she says. "You're the only one."

The End.

**Again thanks for the support, thanks for the reviews, thank you for taking this and any other journey you have with me. I wish you all well and may you find other stories you enjoy hopefully as much as you've enjoyed reading this one. Better still, I hope I've inspired you to find your own muse. **

**God Bless.**


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